The Bounty Hunter Part 1
by Adorkablenerd21
Summary: Swan Queen AU—set in the old west. Emma is a former bounty hunter who settles in Boston. She saves a rather obnoxious woman from a fire, and this sets off a chain reaction of events that lead to danger, romance, and mystery. This story has 2 parts.
1. My Heart's on Fire

**Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon a Time or any of the characters. **

My Heart's On Fire

It was the beginning of summer.

In Massachusetts, even though it was far up north, the weather still got rather hot, and the sun was beating down relentlessly on two figures shooting cans outside of the Sheriff's station. It was Boston, on a Saturday; work was rather slow.

Emma slung her gun around her finger, then aimed, closing her left eye. She hit the can, smiling cockily as it flew off the fence. Pulling her hat lower, she turned to the man beside her.

"Beat that," she taunted.

Graham scratched his beard, never one to turn down a challenge. He walked ten paces back.  
"If I make this, you owe me a drink," he smirked.

"Deal."

Later, they walked into the local saloon. Emma called to the bartender, Tom. "Two whiskeys, on me," she said gruffly.

Graham pulled at the bandana around his neck, wiping at the sweat there. His hair was damp with sweat as well. Emma sat at the bar, resting her hands on the oak. "Looks like another slow night," she mused.

She spoke too soon. A woman, clad in a corset and skirt, usually what the local hookers wore, came running into the saloon. "Fire!" She screamed. "There's a fire at the whore house!"

Most of the men were out of the saloon in two seconds flat. Emma rolled her eyes, then followed them. Graham was with her. "Go to the fire," he told her. "I'll go the fire station." He ran to his horse and swung himself onto the saddle. Emma turned and ran to the source of the smoke. It was a big fire, having already consumed most of the building. The air was suffocating, and she pulled her bandana up to her mouth.

"Is everyone out?" She asked the prostitute from before.

"I think so…" she counted the girls beside her. "Wait."

Emma turned to her. "What? Is someone missing?"

The girl nodded in panic. "Miss Regina, our mistress. She's still in there!" She cried hysterically.

Emma gritted her teeth. She debated her next course of action. She could wait for Graham and the firemen, but by that time it might be too late. "Wait here…what's your name?"

"Melissa."

"All right. Wait here. If the firemen get here and I'm not back, tell them to send someone in to rescue us." Emma ran to the building, pulling her hat low over her eyes. She had leather gloves that she pulled on. Thus prepared, she leapt into the flames.

It was hot. Unbearably so. She could barely breathe, focusing all her attention on rushing through the flames fast enough so she wouldn't get too badly burned. She ran, barely missing a pillar that fell behind her.

"Regina!" She called, as loud as she could. She strained her ears, but only heard the roar of the fire crackling around her.

Then she saw something move. In the corner.

Clutching the bandana to her mouth, Emma Swan leapt over a flame, making her way over to the figure. She was lying down, barely conscious. Emma felt a wave of panic, but she couldn't let herself freeze. Not now. She gently picked up the woman, then slung her over her shoulder. She felt her move; apparently she was more than a little conscious. Why hadn't she tried to get out? Did she have a death wish? These thoughts floated in Emma's brain as she dodged more flames, somehow making it out of the whore house alive.

She sucked in fresh air, greedy for it. She set the woman—Regina—down on the boardwalk.

"Set me down gently!" Regina huffed, bouncing around a little on her foot.

"Seriously? You're complaining about how I saved your life?" Emma glared at her.

She didn't have time to speak her mind, however, because Graham stomped over to her, angry as hell.

"How could you do that? How could you be so stupid, Emma? You're my only deputy! I told you I was getting the firemen!"

"I just saved this woman's life. You're welcome, by the way," Emma turned to the woman.

"You heard the Sheriff. Help was on the way." Regina said.

"Next time, Emma, wait for me. Don't go play the hero. I'd like you to stay alive."

Emma stepped back. Clearly, no one cared that she had just saved a fucking life. "Fine." She stalked angrily away from the ungrateful bitch and her stupid boss.

She lived in a rooming house on Gretchen Street, which was a quiet street quite a ways away from Main Street, where the fire was. Most of the brothels and saloons were on that street. As well as the hotels and restaurants. Main Street was where most of the businesses were situated. Emma was glad she lived away from all that bustle. The lady who owned the rooming house was kind enough; she was like a mother to Emma. Mrs. Jenkins let her pay her rent two weeks at a time, which was helpful. Being deputy didn't really pay much.

Emma had moved to Boston a year before, and had instantly caught the Sheriff's interest. Her insistence on wearing breeches and slinging guns like the men is what most likely made her stand out. He had hired her a few weeks after she'd moved here.

Emma left her horse at the livery stable, then walked the rest of the way to the rooming house. She opened the door with the key she had and carefully crept up the stairs. She almost made it, but was called down by Mrs. Jenkins.

"Emma! You smell like smoke. Don't tell me you had something to do with that fire."

Emma cringed and walked sheepishly back down the stairs. "No! Of course not. I'm a deputy, not an arsonist." Emma chuckled, hoping Mrs. Jenkins would let her go upstairs, take a bath, and get some sleep.

"You're covered in soot. Obviously something happened." Mrs. Jenkins frowned at her, tapping her foot, waiting for an explanation.

Emma felt like a child for the second time that night. "I saved a woman's life tonight. But does she thank me? Nooo. Instead, she acts like it was no big deal. I hate uppity women."

Mrs. Jenkins laughed. "You don't regret saving her, do you?"

"What? No, of course not. But she could have been a little more polite."

"That's a first. You, talking about manners." Mrs. Jenkins sat down and picked up her needlework. "Okay, young lady. I've kept you up long enough. Go take a bath and get some sleep."

Emma smiled. "Good night." She bounded up the stairs, grabbed the wooden bath tub and walked back downstairs, through the kitchen, and out the back door. The stars were twinkling brightly as she made her way to the well. She filled the tub up, then lugged it close to the house. She stopped, out of breath. That fire had taken more out of her than she thought. Normally, she'd pull the tub into the house, but tonight, she was far too exhausted. She looked around. No one was lurking around the street. Emma decided it was safe enough. She pulled her soot-covered shirt off; she'd have to wash that tomorrow, after work.

Emma stripped her leather chaps off next, her boots, then her cowhide breeches. She slunk down into the cold water, shivering a bit. It was a warm night, so the cold water was a definite contrast. She began to scrub her neck, shoulders, and face, dipping her head into the water.

"You missed a spot," a deep, yet feminine voice stretched through the darkness.

Emma's neck snapped up so quickly, she was sure she'd have a sprain later. Droplets of water covered her face, clouding her vision for a moment. She wiped at her eyes and turned her body, which was hard to do in the small tub. She took in the figure of Regina, the woman she'd saved. She grimaced. What did she want?

"You're here to criticize how I bathe? It wasn't enough that you nit picked me on how _I saved your life?"_

Regina smirked, stepping closer to the tub. Emma became suddenly aware of the fact that she was naked. She quickly moved her arms to cover her breasts.

"I just wanted to thank you properly."

"And you couldn't do that before?"

"I was a little shaken up. You see, that fire wasn't an accident. A man who claimed he paid too much for one of my girls'…services was arguing with me. He set the fire."

"Did you tell Graham?" Emma asked.

"Yes, I gave him his name and description. So, thank you, Deputy Swan, for saving my life, even though it seemed to get you in trouble with your boss."

Emma smiled. From the light in the kitchen, she could see the shape of Regina's face, and the way her eyes seemed to sparkle. She really was beautiful. She wondered, for a fleeting moment, how much it would cost to bed her for the night. Emma guiltily shook the thought away.

"Well…you're welcome, Miss Regina…?"

"Mills. Regina Mills. Good night, Deputy." Regina turned and left as Emma watched her.

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The next morning, Emma showed up at the Sheriff's station, tying Mo, her horse, on the post. Graham was questioning Mr. Bryant. Emma assumed it had something to do with who had set the fire.

"You're sure you haven't seen Eddie since yesterday afternoon?" Graham asked.

"Yes, sir, Sheriff. He and I played cards at the saloon, then he left."

"All right, thank you, Mr. Bryant."

The man left, nodding at Emma on his way out.

"So…what's your plan?" Emma asked, leaning against one of the jail cell bars.

"My guess is, Eddie Tyler left town. I need you to track him down. I'll stay here, in case he comes back. But I know you're good at finding people. Just last week you caught the little boy that was stealing bread from Mr. Littlepage's bakery."

Emma smiled at the praise. Apparently her boss wasn't too mad about what happened last night. "That might be true, but that was easy. The kid literally left a trail of bread crumbs. I have no idea where to look for this man. He might have hopped on a boat and gone to New York, or England."

"I highly doubt he's rich enough for that. First, ask around town. See where he usually liked to spend his time."

"From the sounds of it, he liked the whore house," Emma answered.

"Start there then."

Emma gulped. She'd have to see Regina again. She wasn't sure if she was comforted or bothered by that. Not saying this, she simply tilted her head and walked out of the station. She'd have to ask around for Regina's address, because now that the brothel was burned down, she wouldn't find her there.

She got the address from one of the girls at the saloon, who said she usually spent her days alone. She didn't usually have visitors.

Emma bore all of this in mind as she walked up to the modest house on Mifflin Street. There was a white picket fence around the property, and the shutters were a dark green color. It was a cute house, but knowing who lived there gave it an oddly imposing nature. She wiped her sweaty hands on her leather chaps and walked up the porch steps. She knocked on the door with conviction.

Regina opened the door, dressed in a green silk dress, complete with a tight bodice and a bow at the back of the bustle. Emma blinked, trying to match the woman she saw to the one she'd saved last night.

"Hello, Miss Mills. I just came by to ask you some questions about the man who set the fire last night. May I come in?" Emma asked, remembering her manners.

"Yes, of course." Regina stepped aside, allowing Emma inside her house. The walls were bleached white, with few decorations on the walls. Even though there was furniture, and an oriental-looking rug on the wood floor, the house felt strangely empty. Emma stepped into the living room, afraid she'd dirty something.

"Please, sit." Regina gestured to the beige couch.

"I just…I wanted to see if you knew more about Eddie," Emma said, sitting down. "How often did he come to your…place of business?"

"He came to my brothel about once a week. He'd always want Marjorie, I believe he fancied her. This week, however, Marjorie wasn't there, so he had to settle for another girl. He claimed he'd been stiffed."

Emma nodded. "Did he ever hurt you or any of your girls?"

"He grabbed my wrist last night, when he was arguing with me. Other than that, no."

Emma got up. "Thank you, Miss Mills, this has been very helpful."

"He's left town, hasn't he?" Regina asked.

"Yes, most likely. Graham wants me to track him down. Do you know where he'd go?"

Regina deliberated for a moment. "Chicago," she answered.

Emma frowned. "Why there?"

"That's where Marjorie is."

Emma smiled inwardly. She had a lead now, all she had to do was follow it. It wouldn't take long to pack all her things, then say goodbye to Mrs. Jenkins. She'd be on her way to Chicago by nightfall.

"I could come with you," she heard Regina say.

She turned around, unsure she'd heard right. The look on Regina's face said she had.

"No, that's all right, Miss Mills. Tracking people is what I do. And I'm sure you want to start your business up again. So thank you, but no. Goodbye." Emma backed out of the front door, trying to push the guilt of her rude exit down.

She walked to Mo, patting him on the nose. "Don't look at me like that," she protested. "She'd only slow me down."

Emma climbed on her horse and rode back to the station, to tell Graham of her new lead.

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The miles rolled under her as the train sped down the track. She could hear the pistons chugging, and it was oddly comforting. For most of the ride, she'd pulled her hat over her eyes, and caught some shut-eye. She opened her eyes to find a woman sitting across from her in the compartment. She shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, folding her arms over her chest. The woman smiled at her, and Emma slowly smiled back.

"Where are you headed?" The woman asked.

"Chicago. How about you?"

"New York. I'm getting married," she beamed, holding out her hand, which sported a gargantuan rock on it.

"Wow…congratulations," Emma said, trying to sound sincere.

"Do you have someone back home?"

"Uh…no. I'm not really the marrying type."

"That's what my friend Ruby said. But six months later, she got hitched. She and August are happily married now."

Emma couldn't help but smile. "I'm Emma. What's your name?"

"Mary Margaret. I'm from Boston, but David wanted to get married in New York."

Emma smirked. "Small world. I'm from Boston too."

Mary Margaret beamed. "Well, maybe after our travels, we'll see each other again, Emma."

Something about Mary Margaret made Emma feel safe. She seemed like a trustworthy person, and Emma found herself trusting her, which was unusual. Emma hardly ever trusted people, especially strangers she met by chance. But part of her hoped she would be able get to know her better.

"Yeah, maybe we will."

She and Mary Margaret talked until the latter drifted off to sleep, and Emma fell asleep soon after. When she woke, it was mid-morning, and they were arriving in New York. Mary Margaret gave Emma an impulsive hug, which was secretly appreciated by the blond deputy. Then she was gone.

Next stop, Chicago.

Emma played solitaire for most of the trip, just to occupy the time. If she got bored of that, she'd stare out the window, watching the hills go by. The scenery got more beautiful with each passing mile, and Emma was glad she got to see it. She had traveled a lot, back when she was a bounty hunter. She'd usually ride her horse, though. And having to worry about robbers and thieves on the trail took away the opportunity to relax and really notice the natural beauty around her.

She was in the middle of a dream when she heard the distant voice of the conductor call "Next stop, Chicago! We'll be reaching Chicago in fifteen minutes!"

Emma pulled her head up, drawing in a deep breath. She groggily gathered her belongings; a trunk and a carpet bag. She knew she'd have to travel light. She planned on finding Eddie and bringing him back, with no problems. It wouldn't take her more than a week.

She stood up and walked out of the compartment, pulling her luggage behind her. A lot of people were getting off, and she bumped into a few of them.

When the train reached the station, Emma noticed how crowded it was. Stepping off the train, she noticed the streets were too. This would take some getting used to. She reached for her wallet, and her stomach sank when she felt the depth of her pocket.

"Oh, shit," she moaned.

She'd been pickpocketed.

She didn't have any money for food, lodgings, or transportation. She was broke, with a trunk and bag full of clothes.

She decided to sell them. She pulled her trunk and bag over by a street corner and started calling out to passersby, and by the end of the day, she had enough money for a few nights at a hotel, and a couple meals.

She wandered around the city, looking for a livery stable. She finally found one, after what seemed like hours of walking. She asked the stable boy for directions to the nearest hotel, then tossed him some coins for the horse. The city streets were bustling with carriages, and Emma had to weave carefully around them. She almost ran over some boys playing in the street, and winced as one of them yelled at her, scared for his life. "Sorry," she muttered lamely. This city was definitely a change of scenery for her.

She finally got to the Hotel Grande and tied her horse up. She walked in, getting strange looks. She figured it was because she was dressed as a man. Some of the women gave her lingering looks, and she smiled right back at them.

Her room was rather small, but that was fine. She wasn't going to be here long. Her first plan was to find where Marjorie worked.

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Regina walked to her new place of business—it was a building right next to the barber shop and it had been up for lease for a while. Her girls were rather nervous to go back to work, but the demand was always there, and the business was soon booming again. She ran her business professionally; she made sure that her girls were safe. She'd hired two strong men to take care of any situations in which a man got too intoxicated or violent.

Regina knew that many people judged her behind her back. She was the mistress of a brothel, a prostitute. She was done feeling guilty about it. She was comfortable enough in her awareness of human sexuality to know it was nothing to feel bad about. Desire was never wrong. She pushed open the door to the brothel, noticing one of the girls flirting with a rather handsome young man. He had blond hair that fell in curls out of his hat, and for a moment, Regina thought it was Deputy Swan. She blinked, her focus coming back. Emma was in Chicago by now. Good riddance.

Emma had turned down her offer for help, rather blatantly. She had saved her life, sure, but when Regina offered to help her, she'd squashed her like a bug. And Regina did _not_ like to be squashed.

She hoped Emma was starving, without a clue as to where to find Eddie. She smirked evilly at the thought.

In reality, she wasn't too far off.

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Emma trudged through the streets. It was dark, but Emma didn't care. She'd made sure to fill the round in her pistol. She was well protected. Her gunmanship wasn't too shabby, and if any man got frisky, she'd just pull out her gun and threaten to blow his balls off. She had yet to meet a man who wasn't worried about the integrity of his testicles. She walked through the streets, hungry and tired, but she didn't want to go back to the hotel yet. She'd been in Chicago for three days, and still had no clue as to where Eddie Tyler was. She had visited some brothels, in the hopes of meeting Marjorie—the only lead she had on this woman was that she'd worked at Regina's brothel back in Boston. For all Emma knew, she could have come to Chicago and found different work.

Emma was starting to wonder if maybe she wasn't as good as bounty hunting as she led people to believe. She sighed and leaned against a brick building for a moment, ready to go back to the hotel. Obviously she wouldn't find any leads tonight. She heard a sound to her right—some men were coming out of the doorway to the building, two women on their arms. Inspiration came to Emma in that moment. She'd been going about this all wrong. A woman walking into a whore house, demanding answers, wasn't as well received as a man doing so. Quickly, Emma pulled her hair up, stuffing it inside her hat. She pulled out a handkerchief and stuffed it in the front of her pants, hoping the bulge was big enough. Taking a calming breath, she swaggered into the building.

It was dimly lit, with women everywhere. Emma knew she'd come to the right place. This was the place to find anyone who partook in the solicitation of sex business. She looked at each of the women, then walked up to the bar.

"Does a Marjorie work here?" Emma asked gruffly, giving her voice a rough edge.

The bartender turned to look at her. "Yeah, she started just last week. You…you want me to get her for you?"

"Sure, thank you."

The man smirked at her, then walked out from behind the bar.

Emma watched him go, knowing that she'd have to take the women to a private room. That was okay; she'd have more time to ask questions, without prying eyes. She'd also have to pay the woman, even though Emma sure wasn't planning on having sex with her.

The bartender came back, a red-headed woman with him. She smiled at Emma salaciously.

"Hello there, cowboy. Danny here tells me you want company tonight?" Marjorie leaned close to her, placing a hand dangerously close to her breast. Emma shifted a little.

"Yeah, that would be wonderful. Can I take you to one of the rooms upstairs?"

"Indeed you can."

Marjorie pulled her across the room, and Emma could feel women's eyes on her. She grasped Marjorie's hand tighter, not quite believing this was happening. What was she going to do once she got to the room, and they were alone? If she pushed Marjorie away, asking about Eddie, she'd get suspicious, for sure.

Marjorie went to the first room they reached, and pulled Emma inside. Once the door was closed, she pushed Emma up against it, aggressively, and began kissing her.

It was wet, sloppy, but nice. Emma hadn't been kissed like this…ever. There was no tentativeness about it, no innocence. It was all desire, and heat, and a little bit of alcohol. Marjorie snaked her tongue in her mouth, swirling it against Emma's, and Emma moaned in spite of herself.

She pulled away, taking a breath.

"Do you do this with a lot of guys?" Emma asked. Stupidest question _ever_ to ask a prostitute, but she had to get the ball rolling somehow.

"I get paid for it, sweetheart. So yes."

"Danny told me you just started last week. Where are you from?" Emma asked, hoping it sounded flirtatious enough.

"Boston. But I left because…a creep kept bothering me."

"This creep go by the name of Eddie?"

Marjorie stepped back, sexual mood officially killed. "How did you know that? Who are you?"

Emma decided the truth would be best. At least, part of it. "I'm a former bounty hunter. Now I'm in law enforcement, from Boston. Eddie burned down the brothel there, and I'm trying to find him. I think he followed you here."

"Oh shit," Marjorie breathed.

"Yeah. So if you see him, or hear anything, you come tell me. I'm staying at the Hotel Grande."

"No. I want you to stay here."

"That's a little forward…"

"To protect me. I can't handle that guy on my own. If he's as psychopathic as you say, I'll need someone to be there. I'll pay for your meals, and housing."

That made up Emma's mind. She nodded, then before she could say anything, Marjorie reached up and pulled her hat off, the golden locks tumbling down.

Emma bit her lip, ready to get slapped. But it didn't happen. She opened one of her eyes, her face still contorted in a grimace.

Marjorie smirked. "Please. I'm not that stupid. Your lips are way too soft to be a man's. And just so you know? The hankie didn't fool me for a second."

Before Emma could sigh in relief, Marjorie's lips were on hers again.

The next morning, Emma woke, nestled beside Marjorie. Her hair was a bright red, and it fell in curls around her shoulders. Emma smiled, kissing the girl's shoulder blade.

"That really was something," she said, when she felt Marjorie shift.

"Yes, it was."

"You've done it before…with a woman?"

"Yes. Let me let you in on a secret, if you don't already know…" Marjorie turned to face Emma, still keeping the bedclothes wrapped around her. "It's better, with two women," Marjorie whispered conspiratorially, making Emma smirk.

"No argument here." Emma brushed Marjorie's hair out of her face gently. "I'll have to get up soon, though. I still have a man to catch."

"Right." Marjorie sat up, walking to her dresser. "I'd let you borrow some clothes, but I doubt you want to wear what I have." Marjorie picked up a corset, and Emma wrinkled her nose.

"I'll just wash my clothes from last night. Where's the wash bin?"

Marjorie pointed to the corner, and Emma set to work picking up her off-white shirt up off the floor and scrubbing it with soap.

When she was done with that, she decided to go to the telegraph station. Graham would want to know that she finally had a lead on Eddie Tyler.

After that, she talked with Marjorie about how to lure Eddie into a trap.

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Graham sat in the Sheriff's station, his feet propped up on his desk. He'd been busy the past couple of days, breaking up fights at different saloons across town. Without a second-in-command, he'd realized just how big Boston was. It was a booming town, and he couldn't be the sole harbinger of the law. So, in Emma's absence, he'd hired Leroy Jenkins, Mrs. Jenkins' brother-in-law. He was an alcoholic, but Graham hoped that giving him a sense of purpose, and some duty, would help break his drinking habits. At least during work hours.

"Sheriff," Leroy opened the door, looking sober enough. "I was just down at the telegraph station. Looks like Emma sent you something." Leroy dropped the envelope on the table, and Graham picked it up a second later.

It read:

**I HAVE A LEAD. STOP. TRYING TO GET EDDIE OUT IN THE OPEN, MAY TAKE FOUR OR FIVE MORE DAYS. STOP. WILL TELEGRAPH AGAIN IF ANYTHING CHANGES.**

**-EMMA. STOP.**

Graham smiled. He knew he'd hired Emma for a reason. She was a definite asset. He knew a little of her background; she'd been a bounty hunter for several years before landing in Boston. He just hoped she'd be able to bring Eddie back, with no trouble.

Leroy sat down at the table with him, lighting his cigar. He had nothing better to do, at least until night patrol. Graham grimaced at the smoke. He never did like the smell. "Leroy, you think you could smoke outside?"

"Yeah, I could." Leroy didn't move, just kept puffing on the damn thing.

Graham rolled his eyes. Emma better get back soon. Boston had enough trouble without having a homicidal sheriff on its hands, but that's what would happen if Graham had to keep putting up with Leroy.

A knock at the door shook Graham out of his musings. Not many people were polite enough to knock on the station door, and he crinkled his brow in curiosity as he went to answer it.

Regina Mills stood on the boardwalk, a young girl with her, probably one of her employees.

"Good day, Sheriff," Regina greeted.

It had always amazed Graham how Regina managed to keep a ladylike decorum, despite what people said about her and her profession. He had ears; he knew a lot of people thought Regina had wasted her potential by becoming the owner of a brothel. He knew better than to judge someone like Regina. If he wanted not to be on the receiving end of one of her withering looks, he'd just stay out of the gossip-mongering.

"Hello, Miss Mills. What can I do for you?"

"Candy here told me something interesting last night, in regards to Eddie Tyler, and the fire." Regina stepped inside, gently guiding the girl with her. She was probably in her early twenties, and she looked nervous. "Go on, Candy Tell them what you told me."

Leroy snorted. "Candy? What kind of a name is that?"

That seemed to snap the girl out of her nervousness. "It's short for Candace," she spat.

Leroy didn't know when to shut up. Graham stepped behind him, giving him a smack against the back of the head, all the while smiling at Candy. "You'll have to excuse Leroy. He was born with a birth defect rendering him tactless and stupid."

"Ouch." Leroy grumbled, both from the slap and the insult.

Candy took a breath. "I was with Mr. Gold at the brothel last night. He got rather drunk, and started bragging to me about how he was the one who paid Eddie to burn the brothel down. And he kept calling me Belle, and crying about how he missed having tea with me."

Graham sat down at the table, processing all of this. "Thank you for telling me, Candy, you've been very helpful."

Regina turned to the door. "Go on back to the brothel, Candy, I'll be there soon."

When the girl left, Regina turned to Graham. "Emma is in danger. Gold is more powerful than anyone in this town, and if Eddie gets caught, he'll just appeal to Gold for help."

"Yes, I know." Graham said, worriedly. "I have to warn her. Leroy, go back to the telegraph station. Send a telegram warning Emma that she might not just be up against Eddie. Go now."

Leroy left, actually helpful for once.

"If you're organizing a posse to go after her, Sherriff, I want to be one of that number."

"No. I don't want to put you in danger—"

"Enough with the sexism. Just because I am a woman does _not_ mean I can't help you, and keep _you_ out of danger. We're not all dainty creatures, Sheriff. You should know that; Emma is a prime example." Regina didn't add that she thought Emma was a barbarian—that wouldn't do well for her argument in this case.

Graham sighed. She had him there.

"Fine, you can come with us."

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Regina didn't like riding horses. She wished they could have taken the train. But, as Graham pointed out, a group of ten people—nine men and one woman—traveling on a train was sure to attract attention, and this mission depended on being inconspicuous.

She pulled her hat lower over her brow. She'd refused to wear a cowboy hat, and so the hat she was sporting was a black velvet one she had bought in New York when she visited once. It had red and brown feathers in it, and it was Regina's favorite hat. She didn't care if the men snickered at how she looked; it was a fashionable hat, and wearing it made Regina feel more in control of the situation.

They passed beside a river, and her horse bent down to take a drink. The riding gloves she wore were getting hot. She peeled them off and stuck them in her satchel, then picked up the reins, kicking her horse forward to catch up with the men.

She kept going over in her mind the reasons why she was doing this; to avenge herself, and to bring the shady businessman that she had come to loathe over the years down. It wasn't for Emma. She barely knew the woman, after all. And what she did know about her didn't really encourage her to want to get to know her better.

The few times they'd happened to pass each other on the street, before she had saved her life in the fire, they'd look at each other strangely, like they were from different planets. While Regina wore corsets and silk dresses with puffy sleeves—the height of fashion—Emma would walk around town cussing and swearing and wearing breeches and gambling. They could not be more incompatible if they tried.

And yet here Regina was, on a rescue mission to save the deputy.

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Emma placed her hands on Marjorie's shoulders, trying to keep calm. "You remember what to do?"

"Yeah. Calm down, Emma, this'll be a snap."

"Tell me that when it's over," Emma muttered.

Marjorie gave her a reassuring smile and walked out across Haberford street, to the corner where Marjorie had sworn she'd seen Eddie a couple days earlier. If Emma's plan went well, then she'd have Eddie in handcuffs by the end of the night. It was dark, but because of the light pollution, Emma couldn't really see the stars at all. That made her miss Boston and her quiet rooming house even more.

She looked considerably more masculine now; Marjorie had given Emma some facial hair that she'd had from when she did Vaudeville shows dressed as a man. Emma readjusted the mustache, resisting the urge to pull it off and itch her nose.

She crept up by the building tha Marjorie had gone to seconds before, then, pulling out her gun, and shifting her bandana above her mouth, she ran out.

She stuck the gun in Marjorie's back, and Marjorie screamed bloody murder. She smirked for a moment, breaking character. Marjorie was a good actress, but all Emma could think of was how she'd made Marjorie scream last night.

A man's rough hand on her shoulder brought her to the present. He pulled her violently off of Marjorie, knocking the gun out of her hand with ease. He was big—at least 6 feet tall. From how Marjorie had described Eddie, she'd been picturing a guy maybe a few inches taller than her. She'd planned on taking him out, no problem.

But the reality of her situation was, there wasn't just one man. There were six of them, maybe more, surrounding her, ready to rip her to shreds. She looked past them, to Marjorie, who had a panicked expression on her face. The man who Emma assumed really was Eddie was beside her, smirking. He had on a pinstriped suit, looking like the typical gangster type. Emma could not be in more of a sticky situation. All she could do was curl herself up in a ball, and hope that when the guys beat her up, they didn't break anything.

That's what she was about to do, when a voice cut through the crowd of men.

"What's going on here?" It was Graham. Emma could have cried in relief.

And he wasn't alone, thank God. He had some men with him—and Regina. Emma frowned, wondering what Miss Priss was doing with her boss's posse.

But that was a question for another time. Emma watched as Eddie stalked up to Graham.

"Your deputy was about to hurt my girl," Eddie said. He turned to Emma. "Yeah, the disguise was terrible, Deputy Swan. Really, it was transparent." Emma glared at him, but his men were blocking her path.

"You burnt down this woman's brothel," Graham said, gesturing to Regina. He was somehow able to keep a cool head.

"So? You need a warrant to arrest me if I'm out of state."

"Done." Graham held up a piece of paper, signed by Judge Wallis, a close friend of his.

Eddie grumbled. With a tilt of his head, his men moved, letting Emma out of the circle. She shoved one of the guys just for fun, then rushed to Graham.

"I'm not the hugging type," she said. But she hugged him anyway.

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Emma walked up the steps of the rooming house, glad that she was back home. Mrs. Jenkins first glared at her, then scolded her for leaving town without a word, then cried and hugged her. Emma just stood there awkwardly, letting Mrs. Jenkins fuss over her. She'd have to get back to work tomorrow, but right now, it was nice to relish in the moment. She'd brought down an arsonist, made sure he was locked behind bars. The next piece of the puzzle was bringing down Mr. Gold, but that would be hard given all his pull in the town. He owned a lot of the businesses; he was a realtor as well as a lawyer and a pawn shop broker.

Emma had no idea how to prove he was behind the fire.

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"So how exactly did you find me?" Emma asked, kicking up dust on the floor as she leaned against the table Graham was sitting at.

"Regina helped us. She knew a lot of the local whorehouses. She apparently lived in Chicago for a while."

Emma raised her eyebrows. "You're saying I owe my life to Regina?"

Graham nodded. "Well, it seems like a fair trade off. You saved her from a fire, and she saved you from getting your ass kicked by a gang of Eddie's thugs."

Emma turned red. She didn't like being beholden to people. "I—I have to go," she said, and Graham smiled in understanding.

She walked out of the Sheriff's office, gritting her teeth and steering herself towards Regina's place of residence. It was a sunny day in early July, and Emma was conscious of how the beads of sweat on her neck grew cool at the thought of seeing Regina again-and trying to have a civil conversation with her.

She knocked on the door, but there was no answer. She waited for a minute, then knocked louder. She heard a voice call, "I'm in the back," and Emma followed it. She opened the white fence and found Regina kneeling down, in a modest skirt and apron. She'd never seen Regina in something so domestic before.

"Hi," she said, lamely.

Regina looked up at her. "Oh, hello, Deputy Swan. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Regina was all fake smiles. Emma knew she probably wanted Emma to be anywhere but here.

"Look, Graham told me that you helped him find me. If you hadn't come with him, I probably would have gotten beaten to death. So…thank you."

"You don't sound particularly grateful."

"Well, I guess now you know what it feels like to save someone's ass, and they don't really give a shit."

"Must you be so…you?"

Emma frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You and I are far too different to understand each other, Miss Swan. So I suggest, we call it even, and just leave it at that. We don't have to talk to each other. This is a big enough town. We won't see each other that often."

Emma blinked, surprised how this woman could make a total brush off sound almost polite. But still cold as ice.

"Fine. Have a nice day, Miss Mills." Emma didn't breathe until she was out of the yard, and on the street again. The woman really was insufferable. It was as if she thought Emma was beneath her, or something. Sure, maybe Regina was classier than her, and dressed better, but that didn't mean she was the fucking queen of the universe. She owned a brothel, for Christ's sake.

She decided to go back to the rooming house. In the field behind the house, there was a small barn, where Mo stayed. Emma opened the stall door, slipping the harness over Mo's head. She saddled him, deep in thought. Whenever she was mad, or sad, or hell, even happy, a ride was just the thing.

She put him through his paces, galloping across the paddock, then walked him out to the street, taking a path that led out of town.

She rode around the wooded fields, until an hour before sundown. When she got back into town, it was nearly twilight. She let Mo out in the paddock, then walked back to the house.

Mrs. Jenkins and her brother-in-law were arguing.

"Please, just let me stay here a couple days, Margaret. I promise I won't drink."

"Yeah, right. It's nothing I haven't heard before. I'm tired of it, Leroy."

"You have to trust me on this. I'm a deputy now, I'll be responsible."

Emma stepped into the kitchen. "Yeah, about that, now that I'm back in town—"

"The sheriff can have more than one deputy," Leroy interrupted. "Please, sis, I need a roof over my head. You wouldn't let your own brother-in-law sleep on the street, would you?"

Out of all of Leroy's dubitable talents (drinking a barrel of ale in ten minutes wasn't really a skill), Emma had to say, being able to look incredibly pathetic was on the top of the list.

Mrs. Jenkins relented, and Leroy smiled. It was the first time Emma had ever seen _that_, for sure.

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Mr. Gold knew that Eddie Tyler had been brought to justice. But he wasn't done with his revenge on a certain brunette. He'd paid the man to set the fire, but his real motivation was to kill Regina. A certain stupid blond deputy totally foiled that plan. He hadn't thought anyone in town liked Regina enough to risk their lives for her, but evidently, he'd been counting his chickens before they hatched.

He'd just have to be more careful this time. He'd have to find a way to end Regina's life without implicating himself. Eddie had told the judge that Mr. Gold had put him up to it, but he had no proof, and so the judge ignored it.

Mr. Gold was a powerful man. He would find a way to have everything.


	2. A Crooked Road

**A/N: I want to thank you for reading and reviewing, it really does motivate me! I also wanted to let you know that there will be five chapters in part one of this story. I am not sure yet how many chapters part 2 will have. Hope you folks enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it.**

A Crooked Road

Mary Margaret Blanchard—soon to be Nolan—swirled around in her white dress, overcome with emotion. It was her wedding day. She'd been waiting so long, and now it was here.

David had proposed to her six months ago. It'd been right before he had to go on a business trip. He'd been so sorry, and he had said he would make it up to her. Then he was on one knee, and the rest was history that led to this moment. Mary Margaret slowly pulled the veil over her face, unable to stop the shivers from running up her spine.

Ruby knocked on the dressing room door, then walked in. She was 3 months pregnant, but she was barely showing at all, so the bridesmaid dress fit her well. It was a light blue color, with puffed sleeves.

"Are you okay, Mary Margaret?" Ruby asked, looking nervous herself.

"Yes. This is the happiest, most gut-wrenching day of my life. I'll be fine," Mary Margaret laughed.

"You made the right choice. David is the gentlest man I've ever met."

"You're right. I know we'll be happy."

Ruby nodded, a sadness overtaking her. "I just wish you didn't have to go back to Boston. Why can't you stay here? We can raise our children together."

Mary Margaret smiled. "As tempting as that is…our home is Boston."

Ruby hugged her. "I know." After a long moment, she pulled back, determined not to cry. "Now, let's get you married!"

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Regina didn't know how to proceed. Candy was beside her, visibly trembling. She placed her hand on hers, trying to calm her.

They were in the courthouse, and Candy was the sole witness in the case against Mr. Gold. Sheriff Humbert and Deputy Swan were sitting in one of the benches, as they were the officers who brought Eddie Tyler, the man who claimed that he'd been paid the set the fire, to justice. He had been sent to the state penitentiary. Now, since Mr. Gold was implicated, and he was such a powerful man, few were brave enough to stand against him in trial.

Regina was infinitely proud of Candy for being brave enough, even though she looked like she was about to faint. Judge Wallis was standing in the front of the room, at the podium. He had a bushy mustache and beard; he looked harmless enough. Regina whispered this to her young companion, and this helped ease her a little bit.

Soon, Candy was called to the witness stand. Not many people were in the courtroom that day, either out of fear of Mr. Gold or indifference, Regina didn't know.

"So, Miss Fisher, can you tell me what Mr. Gold said to you on the night of June 23?" Judge Wallis asked politely.

Candy nodded. "Of course, sir. He got rather drunk that night, and began bragging to me about how he'd paid Mr. Tyler to set the fire at the whorehouse. He didn't say why."

"Did he say anything else?"

Candy thought for a moment. "He started to cry, and called me Belle, and said that he missed me."

Regina's back got straighter. She'd heard the story before, but hearing Candy speak it out in a courtroom—a half empty one, but still—it gave her chills. She didn't want to have to drag that skeleton out of her closet.

In that moment, a realization hit her like a tidal wave.

That's why Elias tried to burn her whorehouse down. He wanted to kill her for telling Belle to stay away from him. Belle had fled town because of Regina's advice. Regina gripped the bench to keep her from having a panic attack.

No one noticed, however, and the judge kept asking Candy questions.

Mr. Gold got up at one point. "How can you trust the word of a whore over that of a respectable businessman such as myself?"

Regina wanted to get up yell choice words she almost never said right in Gold's face. She wanted to make him cringe and whimper in fear. She stood up, ready to do just that.

But Emma beat her to it. She grabbed Gold by the lapel of his expensive suit.

"You will treat the lady with respect, or so help me I will take you out back and show you how a 'lady' can kick your skinny ass down the street," Emma growled, deep and low, and Regina was quite impressed. She sat back down, giving Emma a smirk from across the room. Emma caught it, and smiled back.

They'd nail this man. One way or another, Gold would be caught.

The judge didn't hide a chuckle at Emma's display of aggression, and went back to questioning Candy. "Miss Fisher, was Mr. Gold the only one intoxicated when he told you all these things?"

"Yes sir."

"Can someone attest to your sobriety?"

"Yes, my employer, Regina, can. She doesn't let us drink during our shifts, probably because of things like this."

Judge Wallis nodded. "Gold, your sentence is 2 weeks in lock-up, and a fee of $500, that you will pay Miss Mills to pay for the damage you caused."

Mr. Gold did not look happy. Regina couldn't be more ecstatic about that.

Still, this was just a slap on the wrist for Gold. Regina knew he wouldn't stop until she was dead.

Sheriff Humbert grabbed Gold, slapped some cuffs on him, and pulled him, none too gently, out of his seat. He pushed him out the door, and down the street. Emma stayed behind, her legs stretched out in opposite directions. Regina cringed. Would it kill the woman to sit like a lady?

Candy came down from the witness stand, looking rather proud of herself. Regina smiled her as she passed, patting her on the shoulder. Judge Wallis soon left, bidding them both goodbye.

Regina just sat there, pondering how to escape Mr. Gold's wrath. She was sure it was a rhetorical question; she could run to the ends of the earth, but Gold would never forget her, or what she did to him. She wondered if giving herself up would be the best thing for everyone. In two weeks, Gold would get out of jail. He'd conjure another complicated scheme to ensure her death. The man was insane. But if she just let him kill her, then things would be better. Mr. Gold would get convicted, locked up for life. The town of Boston would be safe from him and—

"Hi."

Regina looked up, her brown eyes locking onto green ones. She narrowed hers, looking away. "Hello, Deputy Swan."

"Don't sound so enthusiastic, now," Emma teased. "I just wanted to see how you're holding up. I mean, Gold targeted you specifically. Do you know why he'd—"

"Thank you for your concern, Deputy, but I have no idea why that insane businessman would try to burn down my brothel. He obviously needs a psychological evaluation."

Emma smirked. "Yeah, I could have told you that. It just seems like his target was deliberate, like he really has a problem with you."

Regina stiffened. She didn't want to tell the deputy what Mr. Gold's true motivations were. But…maybe having a friend…NO. Miss Swan was not her friend.

"Well, perhaps you should question him about it. I really must be going, it's Friday, my busiest night. Good evening." Regina stood up, smoothed her skirt, and strolled out. The warm summer air was fresh, clean, and Regina breathed it in slowly. She'd have to stop worrying about Gold. After his two weeks were up, then she'd figure out what to do.

But for now, she had a business to run.

She walked down the cobblestone street, instead of the boardwalk, so she could cut diagonally across town. She reached her brothel just as the sun dipped under the horizon. Men usually started pouring in around 8 o'clock. She smiled at Melissa as she entered, hanging up her hat on the hook closest to the door. She went around the room, lighting the candles that gave off various scents. They set the perfect mood. When the candles were all lit, giving the main room an ethereal glow, Regina sat at the bar and waited for customers.

On an average night, she had 10 girls on duty, but since it was Friday, she had 12. Around 8, men started coming in, most of them in small groups. Sometimes, Regina would see twitchy virgins come in, and she'd smirk and make sure they were well taken care of, with someone who knew what she was doing.

Like Melissa. Melissa was kind, generous, and sweet, and Regina knew that that attitude leaked into the bedroom. Candy was more aggressive, Beatrice was shy, and Rebecca, well, Rebecca could fake anything. All of these qualities could be matched to different people, and were useful in different situations. Because of her choice in profession, Regina had become good at reading people. She had an understanding of the part of human nature that most people were ashamed of: sex.

Regina crossed one leg over the other, happy to see more men come filtering in. She turned to the bartender she'd hired and told him to get her a glass of red wine. A few moments later, she was sipping demurely on her glass.

She turned to the door, her eyes catching a shock of curly blond hair. She placed her drink down on the counter harder than she'd intended. She didn't want to deal with the woman tonight. Didn't she know when to leave her alone?

Regina got up, hoping she could sneak into one of the back rooms before Emma would notice. She made it three steps when she felt a hand on her arm. Her hand felt soft against her skin. She'd imagined Emma's hands would be calloused.

"Unhand me, Deputy," she ordered, without turning. "I've committed no crime."

Emma pulled her elbow slightly, turning her so Regina was facing her. "Relax, I'm not here to arrest anyone. It's just been a slow night, and Leroy and Graham's fighting was getting on my nerves, so…

"So you thought you'd come to a whore house to pass the time?" Regina smirked. "Forgive me, but that argument is rather weak."

Emma huffed. "Fine. Look, I need to talk to you about Gold. You may joke about it—"

"Do I l_ook_ like the joking type, Miss Swan?"

"No. But just listen to me. He's planning something—"

"I'm not sure you're familiar with the rules of a brothel, so let me enlighten you: if you wish to spend the night with one of my girls, you're going to have to pay me."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Fine." She placed some coins in Regina's hand, ones that she'd been loath to part with, but doing her job—protecting Regina—no, the _town—_was worth it.

Regina counted the coins while Emma stomped her foot in impatience. Satisfied, the brunette looked up at the former bounty hunter.

"Very well. Which girl do you want?"

"You."

Regina's eyes snapped up to Miss Swan's, fixing them with a surprised look, then a glare. "You can't be serious."

"As serious as cancer. I need to talk to you, and if this is the only way to do it, then fine. Now, I believe you owe me the rest of the night." Emma rocked back on her heels, unable to hide the smirk on her face.

Regina stepped closer to Emma, and smirked right back. She slowly took off her gloves, licking her lips as she did so. "You can't afford me."

"I can pay it in installments…" Emma trailed off. Regina's breath was hitting her face. Instinctively, Emma stepped back. "I just want to talk, that's all."

"Really?" Regina asked. "Just talk?"

"Yes." Emma said, but her voice cracked. Regina smiled to herself.

"Very well, Miss Swan." Regina took her hand, leading her upstairs.

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Regina opened room # 205 with a key from a bunch she'd pulled out of her handbag. She let Emma go in first, noticing how Emma hurried past her, like she didn't want to be close to her for too long. Emma's eyes wandered to the bed first, but she stayed as far away from it as possible. Emma walked to one of the couches in the corner, and Regina followed. They sat down. Regina enjoyed feeling the soft leather massage her tired thighs. These couches had certainly been a good investment.

"So…" Emma reached into her satchel and pulled out a notepad. How cute. "Does Gold have any reason to hate you?"

"Yes. We are both fledgling businesspeople in this town. It's natural for there to be a little…competition between us." Regina answered easily.

"And the competition would get so heated, that he'd burn your fucking property?"

"How would I know? As I said before, Deputy Swan, the man is insane."

"You're hiding something."

"So are you."

Emma frowned, pulling her head back a little. "What? No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. Everyone is hiding something. It's human nature. But right now, in this moment? You're hiding a sublimated attraction to me, as well as some sexual desire. I really had no idea you liked women, dear. But I suppose it shouldn't come as that big of a surprise."

Emma spluttered for a few seconds.

"I—I'm not attracted to you—you're just self-centered, and you think the world revolves around you...you're crazy." Emma spit out the word vomit, but Regina was in no way convinced.

"Whatever you say. Now, do you have any more questions for me?"

"Uh, no, I think we're done." Emma stood up, almost knocking the couch over as she did so. She was out of the room in a blink of eye, and Regina leaned back, pleased with herself.

That was too easy.

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She'd always light a candle late at night, when she took baths. She had a maple syrup scented one, and she'd fill her bathtub up to the brim in bubbles. She had indoor plumbing, so she didn't have lug a tub out to the well to bathe.

And when she was alone, with her thoughts, the wonderful scent of maple engulfing her, she'd close her eyes tight, spread her hands across her thighs, and picture strong fledgling muscles flexing. She'd picture soft, but solid abs, and beautiful legs and arms. All of the people in her fantasies were faceless, simply there to please her with their physical beauty, nothing more. Regina slowly grazed her center with her finger, brushing harder against the sensitive skin. She bit her lip, feeling the pleasure flow out from her core.

A flash of an image came to her—like a bolt of lightning. She was cradled in muscular arms, carried bridal style. She looked in the person's face—and it was Emma.

When Emma had saved her from the fire, for the first few seconds, that's how Emma had carried her. Like a bride.

Regina shifted in the tub, not liking what was happening. _She _was the one who was supposed to be fucking with Emma's head, not the other way around.

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It was getting dark out. Emma had been walking around Boston for the past two hours, trying to process what the hell had gone on in the whorehouse. Regina had…flirted with her. Emma had spent five dollars of her well-earned money on her, and got no helpful information whatsoever.

Regina had been deflecting. She'd obviously hoped to distract the blond, or scare her away. Well, the good news was, the first goal hadn't been accomplished. Emma was still dead set on making sure Gold never hurt anyone again. She had two weeks to bring enough evidence to Judge Wallis' attention that would make it impossible for Gold to be a free man. Emma had a feeling that he was planning something. That man gave her the willies. She stopped by a saloon in the south of town for a drink, then made her way to the Sheriff's office. Leroy had his head leaned back, snoring loudly in a chair, with his hat covering his face. Emma clenched her fists, then used one to punch the other deputy in the back of the neck.

Leroy snapped his eyes open, his head falling forward. "What the hell?"

"Bang, you're dead." Emma said. "Really, Leroy, we've got a fucking arsonist in the cell 10 feet from you. He's a fucking snake; I bet if he wanted, you'd be dead. Stay awake."

Leroy stretched his arms wide. "Okay, I will. It's just that Margie's got me doing chores, and it tires me out."

Emma ignored him, her eyes zeroing in on Gold. She pulled a chair out from one of the tables, and turned it so the back of the chair was about 2 feet from Gold's cell. She sat on it, resting her arms on the back.

"You wanna tell me why the fuck you're targeting Regina Mills?"

"She sent something of mine away. I'll never get it back, and it's her fault," Gold replied.

Emma raised her eyebrows. That had been easier than expected. "Okay, well, why can't you just buy another one? You're a rich guy."

"This something was a person. A person very near and dear to me."

"Oh. Sorry, but you can't own people," Emma said. "If this person left, it was of their own free will, and you can't blame Regina for that. So leave her alone."

"I'm afraid that ship has sailed. Whether or not I get out of here, Regina will die."

Emma glared at the man, who had the audacity to appear so calm, so indifferent. "You are one fucked up asshole." She pushed off the chair, wishing she could throw it against the bars, for no other reason than to just scare the man.

Emma pushed down the desire to throttle Gold through the bars of the cell. If she wanted to stop him, she'd have to play by the book. At least now, she knew that Gold had someone on the outside—someone who was going to kill Regina.

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Emma didn't get any sleep the next three nights, because she was taking over night duty. Leroy kept making excuses as to why he was sleeping on the job, and Emma got tired of it. She had suggested to Graham that they look for some more deputies, and the Sheriff had nodded and said he'd see what he could do. But in the meantime, Emma really was the only competent person in his task force, so all the hard work fell to her.

On Saturday, she'd had to break up a fight between two guys who claimed that the other one had stolen their horse. It didn't help that their horses looked identical. That had taken a while to sort out. Emma finally just said they should share both horses if it was that important to them, and that solved everything.

It was funny how a simple solution could be used to solve a seemingly complicated, convoluted problem.

On Sunday, Emma showed up for work to find Graham with two new deputies—two kids who couldn't be older than 20.

She'd pulled Graham aside discreetly. "What the hell, Graham? When I said 'hire some deputies,' I didn't mean kids fresh out of school."

"They're not, they haven't gone to school."

Emma didn't find that particularly reassuring.

"They're farm boys, Bert and Kevin, from the Jackson ranch. They're really fast learners."

Emma had to put up with the brothers' annoying banter all day, all the while trying to come up with a plan on what to do about Gold.

On Monday morning, Emma walked into the office, sleep deprived and in need of coffee. The only coffee at the station was the black sludge kind that Graham bought in bulk at the grocer because it was cheaper, and it was cold and runny when Emma showed up. She groaned, looking at the mud-like substance in her cup.

"I've never been a fan of coffee. Tea has always been more my taste."

Emma whirled around at the sound of Gold's voice. "You know what? I'm making a rule. If you're not going to talk about who the hell you got to agree to kill Regina for you, then just shut up. If I hear one word not related to that, I might just take this coffee and pour it down your pants. Are we clear?"

Mr. Gold gave a creepy grin. "Clear as crystal."

"Good." At that moment, Bert and Kevin walked into the station, eyes groggy. Emma turned to them.

"Okay, boys, today, you're going to be making rounds. That means, walking around town, making sure no one's causing trouble. If you see something going on, do _not_ try to take care of it yourselves. Come over here and get me or Sheriff Graham."

The boys nodded, rolled up their sleeves and stepped back into the sunshine.

Four days later, on Friday night, Bert dragged Kevin to the whorehouse, claiming that it was to gather more information about what Gold might be planning. Kevin saw right through that.

Kevin Jackson was nothing like his brother. For one, he wasn't a smooth talker with the ladies, and he was a shy, understated young man. His brother was the opposite, loud, rambunctious, and not afraid to get into trouble. It was kind of interesting how he got the job at the Sheriff's office.

Both of them needed the money. Kevin hoped to save enough so he'd be able to go to college; he had his sights set on Cambridge. He didn't really know what he wanted his career to be in the long-term, but he figured a little book learning wouldn't hurt him. He wasn't sure what Bert was going to do with his new flow of income. Probably spend it on girls. Kevin shuddered to think what would happen when their father died, and Bert inherited the farm.

Kevin stood outside of the whorehouse, really uncomfortable. His brother would probably call him a chicken. Sure enough, his 'older' brother started flapping his arms like wings and making a clucking noise.

Kevin rolled up his sleeves, ready to get physical. He didn't have a chance, however, because his brother slipped into the brothel with a huge grin on his face.

Kevin grumbled, reluctantly following Bert. If they got fired for this, he'd never forgive him.

Kevin had never been in a place like this. He'd never admit it to anyone, but he was still a virgin. A 20 year old virgin. That wasn't something to brag about. But if he was going to lose it, he didn't really want it to be with a hooker. To him, sex meant something.

He blinked inside the dimly lit room, his eyes falling on his brother, who was at the bar, downing a whiskey. He had three girls around him, looking at him like he was the center of the universe. Kevin felt a pang of jealousy that he'd felt since they were kids, but he pushed it down, tearing his eyes away from Bert. He debated going back outside and just waiting for his dumbass brother to come out, so he could take him home.

"Can I help you?" A voice behind him snapped him out of his thoughts.

He turned to see Regina Mills, the owner of the brothel, addressing him. He'd heard she was beautiful. His brother had been in here before, and went on and on about how he'd pay anything for a night with her. He said her eyes were like diamonds, and all this other jargon that Kevin had tuned out. So he wasn't prepared to see such a drop-dead gorgeous woman. He actually gasped, then blushed, trying to find words to say. Regina was wearing a black silk dress, with gloves that reached her elbows. The corset she was wearing made her bosoms flow out, and Kevin blinked, forcing his eyes up eight inches to meet hers.

"Um, no ma'am, I'm just here to make sure my brother behaves himself. He's my older brother, believe it or not." Kevin pointed to his brother.

Regina followed the trajectory of his finger and her eyes fell on Bert. His red hair was getting smoothed by one of the girls, and it made Kevin sick. Regina nodded. "I see. How old is he?'

"Twenty-three."

"And how old are you?"

"Twenty."

Regina fixed him with a scrutinizing look. "Did Deputy Swan send you here?"

Kevin was temporarily blind-sighted by the question. "Er…no ma'am. How did you know we worked at the sheriff's station?"

"Well, even though Boston is a growing town, word does get around." The vague answer was classy, cool, just like the woman who delivered it.

"I promise, this was not her idea. My brother is just a horny devil." Kevin smirked.

"Well, maybe he's not the only one who can have fun tonight," Regina answered, with a twinkle in her eye.

Kevin didn't like this sudden turn in the conversation. "Uh, ma'am, I'm not here for that. No offense."

Regina smiled beatifically. "None taken, young man. But may I say, you shouldn't have to watch that." Regina gestured to his brother, who was now kissing one of the hookers. "Not when you are obviously ten times the man he is."

Kevin blinked. That was the best compliment he'd ever gotten in his life. This woman was good.

"I—ma'am, please…"

"Candy!" Regina called out, and Kevin cringed. That is, until he saw the girl.

She was not what he expected. She was wearing a pink corset, and red skirt, but she somehow managed to make it look modest. Her hair fell in brown ringlets around her face. She looked innocent, and that surprised him.

"Hi," Candy said.

"Um…hello."

Regina smiled, then excused herself.

"Would you like to go somewhere to talk?" Candy smiled.

"Sure."

Candy led him to a back room, and she sat down on one of the couches. He awkwardly sat down next to her.

"You have nothing to be nervous about. I really did just mean talk. We don't have to do anything else, if you don't want to," Candy said sweetly, and Kevin relaxed.

"Okay. I'm sorry, it's just my first time in a place like this, and I thought—"

"You thought, because we're hookers, all we ever think about is sex." Candy finished. "That we don't have goals and aspirations, just like anyone else?"

Kevin shook his head violently. "No, of course not! I just—"

"It's okay. I'm used to it. I just hope you'll get to know me, before you jump to conclusions about who I am." Candy fixed him with a sad smile, and her blue eyes bored into his.

"I'm terribly sorry," Kevin said. "I just…had no idea what to expect."

Candy nodded. "Like I said, it's fine."

At that moment, a prostitute rushed into the room, saw them, then turned around and walked out. Kevin frowned.

"Who was that?"

"That was Rebecca," Candy answered slowly. "She's been acting weird lately…I don't know what's up with her. She's been sassier than usual with Mistress Regina."

"Oh…why? Did Regina do something to her?"

Candy shook her head. "Not that I know of."

For a farm boy who'd never gone to school, Kevin was smart. The wheels in his head began to turn.

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Emma lay awake, unable to shut off the thoughts coursing through her brain. Gold had said that, whether or not he got out of jail, Regina would die. That meant, of course, that someone else was going to kill him. She just had no idea when, or who. Maybe they'd wait until Gold was released, maybe they'd sneak into Regina's house and kill her tonight. Emma hated the uncertainty of it all.

She grumbled, rolling over. She punched her pillow to soften it, and sank back onto it. She finally fell into an uncomfortable, tortured sleep.

She woke at 7 am, not well rested at all, and reluctantly pulled herself out of bed. The clock was ticking. July 4th had come and gone; now it was July 10th...Gold would be released on the 16th. Emma rubbed her eyes. 6 more days.

She walked over to her closet and picked up her brown leather breeches. She threw on a blue shirt, and her white hat. She tied her hair in a ponytail, and glanced at her reflection. The bags under her eyes made her look like a raccoon—she hoped Regina wouldn't see her like this. She'd just make fun of her, and ask her why she hadn't been taking proper care of herself. The ironic part was, Regina was the reason she'd been losing sleep. Emma washed her face quickly, then stepped out of her room.

She said 'good morning' to Mrs. Jenkins, and another lodger, George Vaughn, and walked out to the barn. Leroy had been sleeping there, because Mrs. Jenkins didn't have a spare room.

"Leroy! Rise and shine," Emma yelled.

She saw a pile of hay move, then a bearded face popped out of it. "But it's Saturday. Why do I have to get up?"

"Work. You're one of the deputies, remember? We don't get a break on the weekends, buddy."

Leroy sniffed. "Right. I'll have to stay home today. I think I'm coming down with a cold." He coughed onto his hand.

Emma rolled her eyes. "You know, I could tell Mrs. Jenkins that you're slacking off. I'm sure she'd be happy to kick you out."

That got Leroy's attention. "You wouldn't."

"You want to bet on that?"

"Fine…just give me five minutes to clean up. I really need to get this hay out of my butt crack."

Emma cringed, turning away to saddle up Mo.

Leroy and she arrived at the Sheriff's station a half-an-hour later. It was still early, so not many people were out on the streets. Emma strolled into the building, and almost ran into Kevin Jackson, who was talking animatedly to Graham about something.

"You have to believe me, I think one of Regina's prostitutes are planning something…" Kevin said.

That got Emma's attention. "What? What are you talking about?"

Kevin cleared his throat, reiterating what he'd already told Graham. "Last night, Bert and I went to Regina's brothel. I started talking with Candy, and she'd said that one of the prostitutes, Rebecca, had been meaner than usual to Regina. I know it's not much, but, someone Regina trusts would be in a position where it would be easier to kill her, if they wanted to. I just think we should question each of them and—"

"Hold on, kid," Emma held up her hand. "You're smart, I'll give you that, but Graham is the boss. You can't go around delegating orders." She turned to Graham.

He shrugged. "We've got no other leads,"

In the cell, Gold started to stir. Emma had almost forgotten he was there. "We probably shouldn't be talking about this where he can hear," she commented.

All of them walked outside.

Emma noticed Bert wasn't there. She suspected he was on a bender from last night.

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It was 8 am, the end of her girls' shifts. Regina was closing up, blowing out all the candles in the main room that had been burning all night long. She called for the maid, who began mopping up the wax from the floor. She went to the door to lock up, when it opened, and there stood every employee from the Sheriff's office, excluding the older Jackson boy.

Regina didn't bother to keep the glare off of her face. "What do you want?"

"Regina, we'd like to question your employees. We think one of them might be plotting to kill you," Graham answered.

"Do you have any proof?" Regina asked, keeping her cool exterior, even though she was inwardly panicking.

Kevin spoke up. She'd liked the young man; now, she realized, he might be too intelligent—and nosy—for his own good. "I was talking with Candy, and she said that Rebecca had been…more unmanageable lately. Did something happen that would make her want to do something to you?"

Regina rolled her eyes at him. "No. I highly doubt Rebecca would want to kill me just because I make her work weekends. Now, if you don't have any concrete reason for questioning my girls, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Leroy wasn't really paying attention to Regina's rant. Instead, he looked past her into the building, and something caught his eye. Straight past Regina, the hallway that was usually dim, but now, due to the light flowing in from the windows, he could see a figure there. A girl. He nudged Emma, who saw the girl too. She didn't give it a second thought, and pushed past Regina roughly, almost knocking her over. The girl didn't have time to escape. Emma walked up to her, slowly.

"Hi…what's your name?" Emma asked, gently. Regina turned and walked over to Emma, ready to physically move her out of the brothel if necessary, but Emma just held up her hand, focusing on the girl.

"Rebecca," she said.

Emma remained calm. "Okay, Rebecca, do you know why Mr. Gold wants to kill Regina?"

Rebecca shook her head.

"Are you sure?"

"Miss Swan," Regina cut in, her voice dangerously low. "You need to leave, before my girls start getting too scared to show up for work. And if the _law _means anything at all to you clowns" –at this word, her eyes fell on Leroy, who stiffened—"you'd know that you need a warrant and probable cause to come in here and bully us."

Regina watched them go, then let Rebecca leave out the back. It was the end of her shift. She wondered why the girl had bothered sticking around.

Maybe—no, that couldn't be possible. She trusted her girls implicitly.

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Bert opened his mouth, feeling like someone laid a carpet in there. He needed water. He looked around—he was in his room. He didn't remember coming home; his brother must've taken him home after he'd gotten drunk. The sunlight was pouring in mercilessly, and it made his head pound in misery. He smiled when he remembered that he'd gone to the brothel. Flashes came to him. He'd been with a girl, a beautiful girl with raven black hair. She'd been so accommodating, and she made sure his glass stayed full of whiskey the whole night.

He rolled out of bed, wondering what time it was. He looked at the clock on the wall. _Shit._ 11:00. He was three hours late to work. Throwing open his closet door, he rushed to pull on some jeans, then reached for his belt, that he'd flung on the floor next to his door. He pulled it on, noticing it was lighter than usual. He frowned, looking at the holster. His gun was gone. Someone had taken it...he'd have to ask his brother about it later.

Unfortunately, he didn't think to tell him about it until Thursday, a day before Gold was to be released.

He and his brother had been making rounds, breaking up the occasional fight, killing the occasional stray dog. One particularly vicious dog had chased them three blocks because Bert didn't have his gun, and Kevin had emptied his clip on a couple of dogs earlier that day. Oh, the glamor of being a deputy, Bert mused as he caught his breath, leaning against a building in the alleyway.

"Why didn't you shoot that damn thing?" Kevin asked between pants of breath.

"I don't have my gun. I think someone took it the night that I went to the whorehouse."

"You're saying you only went one night this week? I find that hard to believe," Kevin scoffed.

Bert rolled his eyes. "You're just jealous because I actually get to use my dick for something other than taking a piss."

Kevin resisted the urge to punch his brother in the face. "Who do you think took it?"

"I don't know, probably the girl I was with."

"What was her name?"

"Don't remember. But I think she had black hair…and blue eyes." Bert smiled. "She was really pretty."

Kevin blanched. "Okay, we have to get to the station…now."

Bert frowned. "But we haven't finished rounds…"

"Just come on!"

Kevin started sprinting down the alley, taking a sharp turn to head back downtown.

Bert followed, grumbling to himself about having to run all damn day.

When they reached the Sheriff's office, Kevin flung the door open dramatically. "Graham? Emma?"

Emma came out of the back room, putting on her black wide rimmed hat. "What's wrong, Kevin? You look like you're about to throw up."

Kevin pulled her outside, so as not to be eavesdropped on by Gold. Behind bars or not, he didn't want the man knowing that they knew this piece of information.

"Rebecca—it—was—Rebecca…She—was—lying," Kevin said between breaths.

"Do you have proof?"

"She took my brother's gun. She's planning on framing him for Regina's murder."

"She said this to you?" Emma asked, clearly skeptical.

"We don't have time to argue. Where the hell is Sheriff Graham?"

"He's out—there was a bank robbery over on Elm. So, I'm your immediate superior, and I say, we should wait until we've got something solid."

Kevin grumbled, waving his hands animatedly. "By that time, Regina will be dead."

By this time, Bert had arrived at the office, breathing hard. "Why are we here?"

Emma looked from one brother to the other, amazed at how two people who claimed to be related were so different.

"Well, your brother tells me the whore you fucked six nights ago is planning on using your gun to kill Regina."

Bert's eyes almost popped out of his head. "Shit."

"Yeah," Emma agreed. "Shit."

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Graham got back from the bank at 6:00 pm, dragging in the two robbers he'd managed to catch. One was still at large, but Graham was exhausted. He desperately wanted to close up shop, go home and have a footbath, eat some dinner, read, and then go to sleep.

Once he set foot in the Sheriff's station, he knew that was a pipe dream. His three present deputies jumped on him the second he walked in the door. He locked the two men up, then walked to his office in the back of the buiiding. They followed him and all started talking at the same time, but Graham got the gist. He took his hat off, rubbing at his temples. Then he formulated a plan in his head. That was the reason he was sheriff; he was able to assess a situation calmly and come up with a course of action.

"Okay, we're going to pull a sting. Emma, you'll go to the whorehouse tonight, and see if you can sneak into Rebecca's room. Bert, you'll stay here, you've caused enough damage. Kevin, you and I will round up some men around town, then station ourselves outside the brothel. If we hear so much as a pin drop, we'll go inside. Emma, if anything happens, send Regina out to us, so she'll be safe. Got it?"

The three deputies nodded, each springing into action.

An hour later, Emma walked into the brothel, relieved to see that Regina was still alive and breathing. She'd never forgive herself if Regina died on her watch. Even if she was the most stubborn woman in Boston.

Emma sat at the bar, trying to relax. Regina didn't come bother her—she disappeared into a back room. Emma debated going back with her, to keep an eye on her, but her eyes fell on Rebecca, who was across the room pouring drinks for a group of men. Emma's eyes roamed over her outfit, trying to figure out where she'd hide the gun. Not in her bosoms; the gun might accidently go off while she'd bending over. That left two places—either the bustle, or strapped to her thigh with one of her garters. Emma guessed the latter as the black haired beauty plopped down on one of the men's laps.

Emma ordered a scotch; sticky situations were better with a little bit of alcohol in her system. Steeling her resolve, she stalked over to Rebecca's side of the room. This side of the room was better illuminated—the candles were fresh. Emma made to walk past the table Rebecca was at, but did a pretty bad imitation of a drunken stumble, maneuvering her hand so it landed on the ground beneath Rebecca's skirt. Making a show of trying to get up, she pushed her hand onto one of Rebecca's thighs, feeling for the gun.

Rebecca shrieked, standing up quickly. Before Emma could get up fully, the girl had her gun pointed at her head.

"Everyone else, leave," Rebecca ordered.

Every single man in the brothel did just that, probably too drunk to care that someone's life was in danger. Emma shut her eyes, waiting for death.

"Rebecca?" It was Regina's voice. Emma's eyes flew open in panic. "What's going on in here?"

"Regina! Go, now! Leave out the back!" Emma screamed.

It was all a blur. Rebecca turned from Emma to Regina, then started running after her. Emma scrambled up, running after the girl. She took three long strides, then dove for Rebecca, her arms out.

She managed to pull the girl down, but she somehow wriggled out of Emma's grasp. In a matter of seconds, she had both Emma and Regina at gunpoint.

"Brilliant plan, Miss Swan," Regina said out of the corner of her mouth. "Absolutely flawless."

"I didn't see you come up with anything better," Emma retorted.

Rebecca waving Bert's gun in their faces caught their attention. "Shut up, both of you. This is your last night on earth, and I don't think your last words want to be cheap insults."

"Actually…" Regina began, and Emma rolled her eyes.

"SHUT UP."

"Rebecca," Emma implored. "Once you fire that gun, the sheriff will come in here. He's just outside, with a posse. You sure you want to do this?"

"Yes. She deserves it," Rebecca said, tears in her eyes. "She killed Belle."

Emma felt Regina shift beside her. "I did not. Gold lied to you."

"But he showed me the gun you used…he even said your finger prints were on it…"

Emma just listened, not knowing what was going on, but hoping that neither of them were going to die that night.

"Dear, Belle's not dead…she's living in Ireland…I can show you some letters from her, if you like. She and I have been keeping up a correspondence." Emma turned to widen her eyes at the enigma of a woman. Someone was holding her at gunpoint, and she was talking like she was discussing the weather.

Rebecca bit her lip. Things were looking better, Emma thought. "Where are the letters?" Rebecca asked.

"In my house, in the dresser in my living room. The second drawer on the right." Emma looked on shocked as Regina handed her keys to the woman who was holding them hostage. _What. The. Hell_. "Please return them. Locksmiths are so expensive."

Rebecca seemed to be torn between fleeing the scene and blowing Regina to bits. Emma would be eternally grateful that she chose the one that ended up with them not dead.

When Rebecca was gone, Emma rushed to the front door, calling for Graham.

"Where is she?" Graham asked, five men with him.

"She went to Regina's house…something about proof with letters…I don't know." Emma answered.

Regina spoke up. "She needed to feel like she was in control. If I had called for you, she'd have gone crazy with the gun. Just wait; once she finds evidence that Belle is alive, she'll come back. I know her."

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Regina and Emma waited for hours for Rebecca to come back. Emma suggested they play cards to pass the time, but Regina gave her a I-just-smelled-something-terrible look, and it shut her up. She folded her arms, wishing that she could be anywhere but at a brothel with this woman. Her mind replayed what had happened the last time she was here, and she pushed it to the back of her mind, where it belonged.

"I…I suppose I should thank you. For coming in here, and saving me."

"Yeah, well, you made it fucking hard." Emma grumbled.

"Maybe I thought things would be easier if Gold was convicted for life, Deputy. If he had killed me, that's what would have happened to him."

Emma shook her head. "I swear to God, if I live to be a hundred, you'll still totally puzzle me."

"It's not that hard to puzzle you, Miss Swan," Regina smirked, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Hey, I don't think you should be calling me stupid. I _did_ save your life, _two_ times now."

Before Regina could deliver one of her patented withering comebacks, the door to the brothel flew open. Without thinking, Emma threw herself at Regina, holding her, protecting her.

It was just one of the men in Graham's posse. He strode into the room, a grim look on his face. "Uh, Deputy, you're wanted at the station."

Emma narrowed her eyes in thought, her body still close to Regina's. "Why? What happened?"

"I think you should just come see." The man nodded, almost sadly, and walked out.

"Miss Swan."

"What now?"

"Please, remove your hand. We are not in danger, and even if we were, I don't see how having your hand in that particular place on my body would in any way protect me."

Blinking her blurry eyes—the smoke from the candles was fucking with her eyesight—she looked down at her hand that was planted firmly on Regina's left bosom.

"Oh, right. Of course." She retracted her hand quickly, and winced as if she'd been burnt. She cleared her throat, shifting away from Regina.

There were five seconds of blaring awkward silence, until Regina decided to have mercy on her. Talk about firsts.

"Shall we go to the station? See what the fuss is?" Regina said, standing up.

"Oh, yeah." Emma pushed herself up off the couch, following the businesswoman.

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Gold was dead. He was in his cell, but a bullet was in his chest, and the blood was dripping onto the floor. Regina was glad she wouldn't have to clean that up.

Rebecca was there. She'd turned herself in.


	3. From Light to Darkness

From Light to Darkness

Emma grimaced, dipping the mop into the bucket of water. She'd been cleaning Gold's cell, and the blood was almost all gone. She wasn't a squeamish person. Not usually, anyway. She'd seen a lot of blood in her life, because, as a bounty hunter, she'd had to get violent, and sometimes, blood would spill.

But in this instance, because she was conscious of how and why Gold had gotten killed, it made Emma sick.

Rebecca hadn't seemed dangerous. Not until she held Regina and her at gunpoint, that is. She was a lost soul, who trusted the wrong person, and when that person betrayed her, she'd gotten so mad, she'd done something drastic. In a weird way, Emma felt sorry for her. She mopped up the last of the blood, then walked out to the back alley to dump it out. Emma closed her eyes, looking away, as the blood fell onto the cobblestone. She then took the bucket and the mop back into the station.

Sometimes her job was pretty thankless. She also couldn't help feeling slightly relieved that Gold was dead, even though it was coupled with guilt. When she was a bounty hunter, she only ever killed in self-defense; death wasn't something she dealt with lightly. But Gold would have never stopped until Regina was dead, because of some girl named Belle.

She was tempted to go and ask Regina who Belle was, and why Mr. Gold had been so interested in her. But, as Regina never really jumped for joy when she came around the brothel, Emma decided to leave her alone.

Leroy was out with Graham, making rounds. It was Kevin and Bert's day off, so Emma had nobody to pass the time with. She decided she'd stroll around town herself. She pushed the front door of the Sheriff's office open, pulling her hat over her eyes. It was late July, and there was a nice breeze which felt good against the sweat on Emma's neck.

Her spurs jingled as she walked slowly down the boardwalk, her arms swinging. She knew that people stared at her, because she always wore men's clothes, but she was past caring. She'd been raised on a farm in Texas, and she'd never really liked to wear dresses. Mr. and Mrs. Bixby, the people who had taken her in when she was just a baby, never forced her to be a 'lady,' and thanks to them, Emma was the person she was now. Confident, self-reliant. It was rare for women to be independent and unattached, but Emma enjoyed it.

She walked down Main Street, then turned right down another street, then another, her feet taking her to no place in particular. She walked past a building with a sign overhead that read _Nolan's Pets,_ and seeing the puppies staring at her in the window was too much to resist. Emma pushed the door open, her eyes taking in the wonderful sight.

There were birds, guinea pigs in cages, kittens, dogs…even some rats, though Emma had no idea why someone would want to have one as a pet. She bent down to one of the puppies in the pen, scratching its ears.

"Hello, sir," a voice said from behind her.

Emma turned.

The man blinked. "Sorry, miss…I just thought…"

"It's okay," Emma smiled. "It's not the first time I've been mistaken for a man, and it sure won't be the last."

The man smiled. "Well, if you're interested in buying, we're selling the whole litter of puppies for just 10 dollars. We really need to find them a home."

Emma looked at the man, who was smiling at her so innocently, then back to the litter of golden retriever pups. She took a deep breath, knowing that Mrs. Jenkins would probably kill her for this.

"I'll take them." Emma smiled.

"Splendid! Let me just go get my wife so she can help find you a box to take them in." The man walked to the back of the building, and emerged seconds later with a woman—a woman Emma had seen before.

The woman's eyes lit up; apparently, she recognized Emma too. "Hi, Emma. I knew we'd find each other again."

Emma blinked in surprise. "Hi, Mary Margaret."

Mr. Nolan looked between the two of them, frowning. He scratched his head . "You two know each other?"

"I met her on the train on the way to New York," Mary Margaret said. "How have you been, Emma?"

Emma shrugged. "Fine, I guess. I've just been tracking an arsonist down, and trying to keep people from killing other people. Same old, same old."

Mary Margaret's eyes fell on the deputy badge on Emma's chest, then looked into her eyes, concerned. It was interesting how she seemed to care so much for Emma, even though they barely knew each other. "Well, Emma, if you ever want to talk, about _anything_, I'm here. Feel free to come by any time."

"I'll do that."

Mary Margaret smiled at Emma, bearing an uncanny resemblance to a cherub. This couple certainly was smiley. She handed Emma a crate to put the puppies in, and Emma bent over, picking up the four pups and placing them in the crate. She started walking back to the Sheriff's station, grinning widely.

Cradling the crate on her hips, she walked down Mavis street, to the grocer. She'd need to buy some meat to feed the puppies. She placed the crate outside, putting her satchel over the top of it so the canines wouldn't push the top open. She went inside, getting some food for herself as well.

When she stepped out with her groceries, the pups were gone. Evidently, the deputy had underestimated their strength. Emma grunted. "Damn it."

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She spent the next three hours scouring Boston, with no clue as to where the litter of puppies was. She was great at finding people; animals, not so much. Her stomach sank as she realized she'd just lost ten bucks. She pulled on Mo's reins, going back down the street she'd been down ten times already. Giving up, Emma dejectedly rode back to the Sheriff's office. It was around 6. Emma knew Graham wouldn't mind it if she headed home.

She walked into the station, pulling off her badge. Her feet stopped their progress when she saw a golden retriever pup sitting on the floor next to one of the tables, looking up at her innocently. She frowned, wondering what the hell was going on. How had the puppy known to come here?

Her questions were all answered when a woman came strolling from Graham's office, holding two more pups by the scruffs of their necks.

Regina glared at Emma, making her feel ten times smaller than she was.

"Deputy, these strays were loitering around my place of business, chasing my customers away. I suggest you do something before they cause any more trouble."

Emma stepped closer to Regina to take the puppies from her. "They're mine. I bought them. They kinda…got away from me. But thanks for bringing them back."

Regina didn't look particularly glad that she'd ended up helping the deputy. "Yes, well, I hope you'll take better care of them from now on. I really don't know why they were at the whore house."

"Maybe because bitches like to stick together," Emma said, without thinking.

Regina bristled, all her poise gone. She stomped over to Emma until they were a mere foot apart. The glare she gave her made Emma want to pee her pants and run away, at the same time. But she didn't show it…she had been stupid enough to poke the beast. It was too late to back down now.

"Deputy Swan, I am surprised that you and I have managed to coexist in this town this long. I really don't know why I haven't snapped and just throttled you."

Emma smirked. "Because I saved your life."

"I still hate you."

"Oooh, I'm so scared."

Regina stepped just inches closer, so her breath fell on Emma's lips. "You should be. You have no idea what I'm capable of."

Then the woman left.

Okay, so maybe Emma was a _little_ scared.

Scratch that, she was scared as hell.

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Kevin had been spending more and more time with Candy; he'd go so far as to call her a friend. After Rebecca's trial, she'd been sent to prison upstate, and Kevin had been the shoulder Candy had cried on. Rebecca wasn't a murderer; at least, that's what Candy had thought. Kevin was inclined to agree. But then again, he hadn't met any murderers in his life, so what did he know?

After that whole mess, his mother pleaded with him to quit his job. It was too dangerous, she said. What if he died? They couldn't go on without him. Kevin knew that was true. Bert couldn't put on his boots without Kevin's help.

But Kevin hadn't quit. He didn't want to; he needed the money.

All of the businesses that Gold had owned got bought out. The spaces were claimed by the town and put up for lease. New businesses flowed in. In the place of Gold's pawn shop, there was a pet store. Kevin liked walking by and seeing the birds in the window.

The sun was starting to retreat under the horizon. Kevin was just outside the brothel, lighting up a cigarette. Candy was with him, watching the sun set.

"Can I have one?" The girl asked. Kevin pulled out another cigarette from his shirt pocket and handed it to her, lighting it for her.

She took a drag on it and coughed.

"You don't smoke often, do you?"

"No…but today's been a long one. And the sad thing is, my shift just started." Candy laughed.

Kevin looked back at the brothel behind them. "Yeah, speaking of that, won't Miss Regina be mad that you're out here?"

Candy shook her head. "She's not here yet."

Just as Candy spoke the words, they saw a dark-clad figure come practically charging down the street towards them. Kevin squinted; it was getting darker, and he couldn't tell who it was.

The person's voice gave them away. Regina appeared to be fuming. "Insufferable woman—I should have just slapped her right there…" Regina trailed off when she saw the pair watching her.

"Uh, Miss Regina…are you all right?" Candy looked concerned. It struck Kevin how Candy saw Regina as a mother. She didn't seem like the maternal type.

Regina straightened up and unclenched her fists. "Yes, of course. I just had some…business that needed attending. Come on inside."

Kevin gave Candy a secret smile, watching her go inside the brothel. He took another drag, and tried not to think about what Candy would be doing for the next 10 hours.

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For the past week and a half, Graham had been trying to find the man who'd held up the bank on Elm Street. It was Tuesday, July 29th, and Graham still hadn't caught him. The robber's two buddies gave up his name, but not anything else. He didn't know where the man's hide-out was, or where his share of the money had gone. Graham was between a rock and a hard place. He didn't even know what the guy looked like.

He just had the name: August Booth.

He waited for Emma to show up for work so he could talk with her about what to do. She was still his best deputy, by far. He trusted her the most, because she'd been working for him the longest. Maybe she could use her feminine charms—oh, who was he kidding? They'd need someone else to lure Booth into a false sense of security. Someone who was classy, but not afraid to push the envelope. Someone like Regina Mills.

When Graham told Emma his plan, she scoffed, pouring herself a cup of coffee. She'd bought some, because she kept complaining that the kind Graham bought tasted like cow-pies. He'd just shrugged.

"Graham, Regina won't be able to find this guy. She's too gaudy; she'd attract way too much attention. And we don't even know where to start in finding this Booth, so why drag Regina into it?" Emma palmed her coffee cup in both hands.

"Because I'm desperate, Emma. The man's got to have a hide-out somewhere; we just need someone to use their feminine wiles to drag it out of him. And we both know you're not the woman for the job." Graham smirked.

Emma groaned. "Okay, here's the thing: I kinda called Regina…a…a bitch, so I really don't think she'll want to help us."

Graham stood up fast, barely restraining a yell. "Emma, damn it, how old are you?"

Emma cringed. "I'm sorry, she just gets on my nerves, thinking she's so much better than me all the time, and I just—"

"Don't apologize to _me_! You get your ass over to Regina's house, and you fucking bend your knee and prostrate yourself before her. You do this, or I fire you. Understood?"

Emma's eyes bulged. She had never seen this side to her boss, not even when she'd ran into the fire at the brothel without any back up. As scared as she was of Regina, she was fucking terrified of the man before her. "All right, fine, I will."

"GO! NOW!"

Emma quickly put down her cup, sloshing her coffee all over the floor. Graham would get Leroy to clean that up, when he bothered to show up for work.

His deputy ran out of the building like her life depended on it.

Emma stuck her foot into the horse's stirrup, swinging herself up onto the saddle. She huffed, angry at Graham for…whatever that was back there. He was usually so calm, and put together. Emma kicked Mo's side with her left foot, turning down the street. She reached Mifflin Street about twenty minutes later.

Regina's house still had that intimidating effect on Emma that it had had when she first saw it. She knocked on the door softly, her knees knocking.

The door opened, and Emma held her breath. Regina's eyes zeroed in on hers, and it was Emma could do to not fall to pieces. She gulped.

"I—I just came to say, I'm sorry," Emma said, lamely.

"Apology not accepted." Regina slammed the door in her face.

Emma flinched, then steeled her resolve. She had not come all this way for this shit. She pounded on the door this time.

"Regina, come on! I need to talk to you. What I said was wrong, yeah, but the sheriff needs your help and he said—"

Regina opened the door, her expression the same as before. "So you are only here because Sheriff Graham sent you?" Regina rolled her eyes. "I should have known. Good day, Miss Swan." Flipping her hair haughtily, she made to shut the door.

Emma moved fast. She (somewhat clumsily) stuck her foot in the door jamb, preventing the door's progress. Then she slipped inside, and took off her hat.

She saw Regina turn on her, looking ready to breathe fire. "You really have no decorum whatsoever."

Emma just grinned, leaning against the hallway wall. "Says the woman who owns a whore house."

"At least I have knowledge of common etiquette, Miss Swan. _You_, however, wouldn't know good manners if they hit you in the face. Really, dear, would it kill you to clean your boots? You're tracking mud all over my carpet."

Emma rolled her eyes, but slipped her boots off. "Fine. Happy now?"

"Not really, but we may as well get over whatever it is Graham sent you here for. So what it is it?"

Emma gulped, hating what she was about to do. Biting her lip, she got down on her knees, looking up into Regina's face. "Regina, will you please forgive me for calling you a bitch?" Emma asked, sincerely.

Regina looked down her nose at her. Then she let out a peal of laughter that was rather insulting, given the current circumstances. Emma grumbled and felt her face getting red—well, redder.

"Can you please take this seriously?" Emma asked.

That just made Regina laugh more.

Emma stood up, more than a little mortified. "Well, now that that's out of the way, Graham needs your help in tracking down a bank robber. He goes by the name of August Booth."

Emma paused for a moment. When Graham said the name, it had sounded familiar, but Emma couldn't remember where she'd heard it. "We've caught his two accomplices, but he's sneaky. Have you heard of him?"

Regina made a show of wiping her eyes from the bout of hysterical laughter she'd had. At Emma's impatient stomp, however, she composed herself. "No, Deputy, I haven't." She reluctantly guided Emma to the living room, as this was a social call.

Emma sat down on the couch closest to the fireplace. "Well, Graham was wondering if you'd want to help us track him down, using your feminine wiles."

Regina raised her eyebrows. "My _what_?"

"His words, not mine."

"Well, seeing as you're not too polite with words…"

"I said I was sorry. What more do you want?"

Regina pursed her lips. "I've been meaning to ask, how are the puppies doing?"

Emma blinked at the sudden change in conversation. "Um…they're fine. Mrs. Jenkins is letting me keep them out in the barn. They like Leroy a lot. But I think he's allergic; he said he didn't feel well, and I thought he was just giving that old excuse so he wouldn't have to come to work. But he looked like shit this morning."

"A simple 'they're feeling healthy' would have sufficed."

Emma rolled her eyes. "You asked."

"Back to this 'tracking' business. What does the Sheriff want me to do, exactly?"

Emma slapped her knees with her hands, and blew some air out of her cheeks. "Well, use your influence around the town to see If anyone knows who August is, then flirt with him, get him drunk..I don't know. I have no idea what Graham was thinking."

Regina stiffened. "Are you saying I'm not capable of flirting, Deputy?"

Emma just stared at the brunette, wondering where the hell she'd gotten that from. "No, I just—"

"Because I'll have you know, men have fallen to their knees before me. Much like you did when you came in here," Regina gave her a smirk, and placed her hands demurely in her lap.

Emma stood up. "Okay, I think we're done. Obviously you don't want to help. I'll tell Graham to find someone else."

"Sit down."

"But—"

"Sit. Down."

Emma sat.

"Now, I never said I wouldn't help. I will. But I have conditions."

Emma sighed. This did not sound good.

"In addition to the reward—there is a reward, correct?"

Emma nodded. "Yeah. Fifty dollars."

"Good. In addition to that, I want you to tell your deputy Kevin to stop coming to my whore house every night. He's interfering with Candy's job."

Emma frowned. "Are you sure we're talking about the same kid?"

"Yes…the younger Jackson boy, who has red hair that always looks like it needs to be combed."

"Why is he going there every night?"

"I believe he has an infatuation with Candy. I need you to promise me you'll put an end to his advances. I do not need Candy distracted."

Emma nodded. "Fine."

Regina smiled. "Allright. I will start seeing what I can find out about this August."

Emma stood up. While she was relieved that they had a better chance of finding Booth with Regina on their side, Emma didn't relish the thought of having to work with her. She hoped Regina was half as good as she thought she was.

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Regina spent all of Wednesday with some of her business contacts—other brothel owners, barkeeps and the like, and she didn't find a shred of credible evidence as to who August was. No one had heard of him, which led Regina to believe he was from out of town. He might have left already, for all she knew.

From what Emma had said, they were dealing with someone who knew what he was doing. Since he was so good at seemingly disappearing into thin air, Regina guessed this man was no amateur. Emma had interviewed the bank teller, who had said that the man was average build, about 6 foot 2, and wore a mask across his eyes, and a bandana. So his face was covered except for his eyes. Emma had said they were blue.

So they were looking for a man, average height and weight with blue eyes.

Regina sighed, having just met with a man who owned the Salazar Saloon. His answer had been the same; he had never heard of an August Booth. Regina rapped her hands on the bar, getting the bartender's attention. After the day she'd had, Regina really did need a drink. The bartender slid a glass over to her, full to the brim with ale.

She took a gulp of her beer, deep in thought. She didn't notice a short, stocky man sit at the barstool next to her.

"Hey there, sister."

Regina turned her body to face Leroy Jenkins, former town drunk. Now that he was working at the Sheriff's station, he'd cut back considerably on his drinking habits. Regina knew this because he'd been a regular customer at her brothel. She was partly glad that he wasn't doing that anymore, despite the loss of income.

"Hello, Leroy," she said, politely enough. She took in his appearance. His nose was red, and there was snot dangling from it. He looked positively miserable. She pulled out a hankie and gave it to him, and he muttered a thanks before blowing into it. He reached out his hand to give it back, but she grimaced.

"No thank you, you keep it," she said quickly.

Leroy sniffed. "Thanks."

"Are you sick?"

Leroy did a double take, as if he was unsure if he'd just heard Regina actually ask about his well-being. "No…I think I'm allergic to the dogs that Emma brought home. She's keeping them out in the barn and I—" Leroy sneezed into the kerchief.

Regina hesitated for a moment, before speaking. "If you like, I have some rooms open for rent. You can stay with me. For pay, of course. 10 dollars a week."

Leroy looked at her, shocked. "I'll think about it. Thanks again for the hankie." He pushed himself off the stool and walked out the door, sneezing three times before he reached it. Regina really did feel sorry for him. But she also wanted Emma to be able to keep those puppies. She didn't show it often, but she had a soft spot for animals.

At least, what she told herself. She cared about the pups. _Not _about Miss Swan. _Definitely_ not.

Regina went back to pondering how to track August. An idea came to her, one that she should have thought of much sooner. She hurriedly finished her drink, then walked to the street. It was a cloudy day, and it was starting to drizzle. Regina had come prepared; she hoisted her parasol above her head and started to walk to the station.

She told her idea to Graham and Emma, and they agreed that it was worth a try.

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The two men, Niles Garvey and Rick Stumpy, had been August Booth's accomplices in the bank robbery. Graham made a deal with them, saying that if they brought August to justice, they'd be exempt from punishment. Niles told them more about what August looked like—he had brown hair and a scruffy beard. He usually wore black, but Niles wasn't sure where he'd come from, or if he was still in town.

Emma had to give it to Regina, her plan was solid.

She'd suggested that the two men go back to their hideout, leading a posse right to it. They'd send for August via smoke signal, and wait to see if he showed up. Graham and his deputies would be just close by, and they'd watch to see if anyone rode in. The plan was well thought out.

So, on Friday, Graham, Kevin, Bert, Leroy, and Emma all saddled up, with Niles and Rick riding ahead of them. Graham had warned them that if they tried to escape, he'd fire at them. And Emma could attest to the fact that he was an excellent shot.

The band rode out to the hideout. It was a small cabin in a valley that was well hidden by the trees. Graham and his posse dismounted, keeping well away from the cabin, watching from behind a thicket.

Niles and Rick walked up to the cabin, and opened the door, their guns out just in case. Emma watched with baited breath, squinting through the leaves in the thicket. She heard two gunshots seconds later. There was a collective gasp, and Emma's gut reaction was to run out, guns blazing. Graham held her back.

"Just wait for them to come back. Maybe they got him."

They waited for five minutes, each second more torturous than the last. Finally, Emma spoke.

"I think we should just blitz him. Run out all at once, and fire."

Graham rolled his eyes. "No. For all we know, this guy knows we're here. He's prepared."

"So what do we do?" Emma asked.

Bert spoke up. "I could try to sneak around the back. This thicket will cover me for most of it…there's only ten feet of clearing between the end of the thicket and the back door."

Everyone turned their heads to look at Bert; this was the first time since he'd been hired that he'd come up with a logical plan. _Give the guy a prize, _Emma thought.

Graham deliberated for a moment. He nodded. "Keep your gun out. And be careful."

Bert made sure the round in his gun was full. He hugged Kevin, patted him on the shoulder, then walked through the thicket, pushing away thorns and leaves as he went.

Emma's eyes zeroed in on the clearing, waiting for Bert to reach it. After what seemed like hours, Emma saw a shock of red hair—and Bert ran to the door. Before he reached it, a shot rang out. Kevin screamed. Bert fell down, clutching his chest. Emma gasped; so did Leroy. Graham grabbed Kevin to keep him from running out after his brother. Holding Kevin's head to his chest, Graham turned to Leroy.

"Go back to my saddlebags. In there is some lighter fluid. Then get one of your bottles of whiskey from your saddlebags."

Leroy nodded and sprinted away.

He came back with both of the requested items, and handed them to the sheriff. Graham ran towards the end of the thicket before any of them could stop him. They just watched him, scared to move. He ripped off a sleeve of his shirt, then dipped it in the lighter fluid. He tied the cloth to the whiskey bottle, then pulled out his lighter and lit the end of the rag. With a swing of his arm, the bottle flew towards the cabin in an arc. Heat hit all of their faces as the wooden building caught fire.

They watched to see if anyone would come out. Sure enough, a man ran out, a man that fit August Booth's description. He ran across the clearing, and Graham sent Leroy after him. Leroy doubled back to get his horse with remarkable speed.

Now they all knew just what they were dealing with. Emma watched Bert's lifeless body, tears prickling at her eyes. Whatever she thought about Bert, however useless of a deputy he had been in the past, his last moments were ones of the highest bravery. The unfairness of it all made her want to scream. _Give him a million prizes._

Kevin didn't stop crying. As they picked up the body and rode back to town, Emma heard his loud sobs pierce the valley.

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Bert's funeral was held a week later.

As Kevin threw shovelful after shovelful of dirt onto his brother's body, all he felt was numbness. It should be him lying there. He should have stopped his brother from doing such a stupid, brave thing. His life would never be the same without his brothers' crazy antics and stupid schemes coloring it, making it brighter.

He cried, not caring that his hands were blistering. He looked at the small gathering of friends, surprised to see Candy there. Regina was there, as well Graham and the other deputies. Kevin was angry at them—and at himself. They should have stopped Bert. They all should have just ridden away.

But nothing could change what had happened, no matter how overcome with guilt Kevin was. He didn't even have the energy to be mad at the man who killed his brother. Not that he didn't want revenge; he did, but he was just too exhausted. Grief had taken everything out of him, until there was nothing left.

He felt his father's hand on his shoulder, soothing him. He just kept crying, not holding back.

After the priest was done with the service, Kevin walked forward to give a eulogy.

"Bert was…full of bravery, up until the last moments of his death. He was never afraid to try new things, and he lived life to its fullest. I feel ashamed of the times that I let petty jealousy get in the way of loving him, and appreciating him." Kevin gave a muffled sob. "And I just wish he was here so I could tell him all this, and say sorry for letting him do such a brave, stupid thing that ended up getting him killed."

Kevin wiped his face, and walked back to join his parents. People came up to hug him, but his bleary eyes barely focused on them at all. All he could see was his brother's lifeless body back in the clearing, the blood seeping out of him. He felt pats on his back, and heard whispers of 'I'm sorry,' but he didn't snap back into focus until Candy was standing before him.

She just held him. She let him cry long heaving sobs that shook his whole body.

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Watching Candy comfort Kevin like that softened Regina's heart. She had been foolish in keeping them apart, or at least trying to. Candy was Kevin's only friend now. She knew what that felt like. She watched the scene, unable to keep the tears out of her eyes. Whoever did this would pay. Regina would make sure of it, even with her last breath.

Emma walked up to her, her eyes red.

"I just can't believe it…" Emma trailed off, not sure what else to say.

Regina understood. Sometimes silence spoke volumes.

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Ruby Booth sat in the parlor of her house in New York City. August had bought it for them, saying that as soon as he got back, he'd be ready to start their family.

She had a dress in her lap, and she blinked her eyes as she passed the thread through the eye of the needle. She was a seamstress, and a lot of times, she brought her work home with her. It helped pass the lonely nights.

Being a carpet salesman was more demanding than Ruby had originally thought. August was gone almost 7 months out of the year; Ruby hoped they'd be able to at least spend the holidays together. She also didn't want him to miss the birth of their child. But now, he was traveling across the states, selling rugs. Ruby missed him terribly.

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Mrs. Jenkins demanded that Emma spend some days at home. She made her soup, and spent almost every second of the day with her. Emma didn't understand this. It wasn't like she was sick. She was just grieving. She didn't normally like being babied, though she secretly appreciated it in this instance. Mrs. Jenkins read to her, brushed her hair, even offered to sleep next to her, in case she started having nightmares.

Emma was grateful for her presence tonight. Feeling a body next to her didn't make her feel so powerless, or alone. Her thoughts drifted to what she'd do when she caught August. She'd revel in making him suffer, if not physically, then emotionally. Maybe she'd let Regina have a go at him. She'd have him begging for mercy.

With these last thoughts sifting through her consciousness, Emma fell asleep.

She woke the next morning, an indentation in her mattress. She could smell something cooking—it smelled like bacon and eggs. Emma rolled out of bed, still feeling like shit, but the prospect of having a good breakfast made her throw on a red flannel shirt and her cowhide pants.

She ate heartily, and even then, Mrs. Jenkins urged her to have more. She shoveled as many eggs into her stomach as possible, then excused herself. She needed to talk to someone. And while Mrs. Jenkins' company was nice, Emma wanted to talk to someone close to her own age.

She slowly walked out to the barn, seeing her pups all huddled together sleeping. She smiled at them. They really were adorable. Looking around, she was surprised when she didn't see Leroy there. Not thinking much of it, Emma saddled Mo and rode into town.

Emma pulled at her satchel, itching the skin underneath. She walked with purpose to the pet store, breathing steadily as each step she took felt heavier. She pushed the door open, hoping to see Mary Margaret. Sure enough, she was there.

"Hi, Emma!" Mary Margaret's eyes lit up, but her face contorted into a frown when she took in the blonde's tired expression. "What's wrong?"

"One of the deputies—Bert Jackson…he got shot," Emma muttered, her eyes glued to the floor.

She heard footsteps, then felt a hand pull her chin up. "I'm sorry."

Emma nodded, all of her defenses falling down. "I just…I shouldn't have let the stupid kid run out there, when we didn't know what we were dealing with..I should have known better…things should not have turned out this way."

"You know, it's been my experience that when people say 'should' it just means they feel guilty. And you, Emma, have nothing to feel guilty about. Did you kill the deputy?"

Emma shook her head.

"Then stop this. Stop thinking you could have stopped a killer from killing."

Emma looked at her tearfully. "But that's my job. I'm supposed to stop these things from happening."

"Then catch him. What's his name?"

Emma reached into her satchel, pulling out a wanted poster. Mary Margaret took it, then her eyes bulged out of her head. "August? His name is August Booth?"

Emma turned to her, and nodded. Suddenly she knew why that name had sounded familiar. She recalled the conversation she and Mary Margaret had had when they first met.

_"Do you have someone back home?" _

_ "Uh…no. I'm not really the marrying type."_

_ "That's what my friend Ruby said. But six months later, she got hitched. She and August are happily married now." _

Emma gasped, angry that she hadn't figured it out sooner. Mary Margaret and her just stared at each other, the realization dawning on them.

"Ruby's in New York City," Mary Margaret said.

Emma flew out of the pet store, Mary Margaret right behind her. She heard the woman panting heavily. Emma ran to her horse and helped Mary Margaret climb on behind her. They galloped down the cobblestone streets, the wind blowing Emma's hair everywhere.

They dismounted once they reached the sheriff's station, and Emma screamed for Graham. No one was there, and Emma slammed her fist against the table in anger. They were so close to avenging Bert's death, but they would need a plan. She guessed that, since Ruby was back in New York, August would go visit her. She could just go find him. Graham would understand. Making up her mind, she turned to Mary Margaret.

"When Graham gets back, tell him I've gone to New York City, and I'm planning on bringing August back, if he's there."

"You need to get Ruby. She's not safe in New York."

Emma nodded. "I will." With that, she threw the door open and left, jumping on her horse's back. She galloped to the rooming house to pack. Throwing together essentials for her journey—clothes, a shot gun, and three pistols—she grabbed her belt, putting two of the pistols in the holsters. The third pistol was strapped to her left calf. It'd be hard to grab, but in case she was captured, it was better than having no weapon at all. Her shotgun was slung over her shoulder. Thus armed, she moved to open her bedroom door.

Regina had her hand raised, as if she had been about to knock. Her mouth was open slightly, and she widened her eyes at Emma's hard expression.

"Hello, Deputy," Regina said, her voice low. "Going somewhere?"

Emma tried to sidestep the woman, but had no such luck. Regina placed her hands on either side of the doorframe.

"I'm not in the mood, Regina. I have a bad guy to catch."

"And you're just going to go alone?"

"Yeah."

Regina rolled her eyes. "You really are an idiot. The last time you just charged into a situation like this, Miss Swan, you almost got beaten to death. Must I remind that you would have, had I not shown up?"

"Well, what do you want me to do? I don't have time to wait for Graham to gather up a posse." Emma shifted impatiently.

"Let me come with you."

Emma scoffed. "Uh, no."

"Have you ever been to New York City?"

"No, but I'll be fine. I can take care of myself."

"I am simply proposing you let me come with you as a navigator. I lived in New York for a few years."

"Yeah, Graham told me you lived in Chicago too. You've sure been around."

"Yes, and as such, I think it would be best if you let me come with you."

Emma bit her lip, looking at the woman. She just couldn't stay out of Emma's way, could she? She'd thought that's exactly what Regina would want, yet, here she was. "Why did you come here?"

"I came to give my sympathies about Bert's death," Regina answered. "I know what it's like to lose someone. My mother died five years ago from scarlet fever."

Emma's shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry."

"Yes, well…" Regina paused. "Are you going to let me come with you or not?"

Emma sighed. "You can come. But we're going on horseback."

Regina groaned and followed Emma out to the barn.

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"Why couldn't we have taken a carriage?" Regina complained.

"Because of robbers. We might as well carry a sign that says, 'we have money, come steal from us,'" Emma answered.

"But we're two women, traveling without a male companion. Don't you think we're easy targets as it is?"

Emma stopped trying to make a fire, and glared at Regina. "If you're going to be like this the whole time, you can just go back. We still have six hour's ride ahead of us, and I really don't think you'd want me to have to dispose of your body in a river somewhere."

That shut Regina up. For a while.

Regina didn't understand how someone could do this for a living. She was cold, tired, and bugs were feasting on her legs, biting them relentlessly. She had a grudging admiration for Emma, not that she'd ever tell her that. She shifted on the blanket, and watched the flames slowly kindle from Emma's expert touch. The blonde blew on the smoke, throwing more sticks onto the orange coals. There were so many stars in the sky, and Regina craned her neck to look at them all. She scratched at the pair of pants Emma had lent her. Emma had smirked as she gave them to Regina, watching her horrified expression. She'd been loath to put them on, but they were more comfortable for riding than her skirts.

Emma pulled out the rabbit that she'd shot out of her saddlebags, and started cleaning it. Soon, she was roasting the meat on a spit, and handed Regina some.

"This is good, Miss Swan," Regina said, slowly chewing the rough meat.

"Thanks. I really wish you'd stop calling me Miss Swan, or Deputy Swan. My name is Emma."

"Emma…" Regina winced. "I don't like it."

Emma groaned. "Well, don't call me 'Miss Swan' then. If I had to pick between, 'deputy' or 'miss,' the first would be my choice."

Regina smirked. "All right, Miss Swan."

Emma just glared at her.

They ate in silence, watching the fireflies come out. Emma lied onto the blanket, stretching her legs out in opposite directions. Regina soon lied down as well, so they were parallel.

"I used to catch fireflies all the time as a kid. I lived on a farm, so every summer night, I'd go outside with a jar and try to catch as many as I could."

Regina shifted. "That sounds fun."

"Yeah. Did you ever do that as a kid?"

"No. My mother was strict about not being outside after dark."

"Oh. Well, it's not too late." Emma sat up, holding her hand out to Regina to help her off the blanket.

Regina just squinted at her.

"Come on, Regina. I'm going to teach you how to catch a firefly."

"Miss Swan, _I _am an adult, in case you didn't notice."

"Fine." Emma lied back down on the blanket, but she turned her head towards Regina. "You don't know what you're missing out on."

Regina got up, if for no other reason than to shut the woman up. She walked out to the field, watching the bugs light up, then fly around. It really was beautiful. Regina tried cupping her hands and closing them around the bugs, but they would end up flying out of the cracks in between her fingers. Emma managed to catch one, then called to Regina. She held out her hands, letting the bug crawl into Regina's waiting hand. It lit up, and Regina smiled. Her head bent close to Miss Swan's, and they just looked at the light, then let the insect fly away.

Soon, they went back to the fire, and opened their bedrolls. Before Regina drifted off to sleep, she said, "Thank you, Miss Swan."

Emma had only ever heard that when she'd saved Regina's life, or done something stupid/heroic. Hearing her say it just for showing her how to catch a firefly was…nice.

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Graham woke. His house was situated on a street close to Main Street, which was nice, because that meant the Sheriff's station was close by. Graham stood up and walked to the wash bin. He splashed himself with cold water, then opened his dresser to get a shirt. Now that Emma was gone, and Bert had been killed, he only had two deputies.

Leroy had chased August, but had lost him when he reached the river. Graham didn't know where he had gone, but he hoped that Emma's lead was right. Maybe he was in New York City. Mrs. Nolan had told him everything yesterday; one of her close friends was married to this dangerous man. That's why Emma had gone to New York.

Graham hoped she would be safe.


	4. When She Goes, She's Gone

When She Goes, She's Gone

The bustle of the city was overwhelming, and Emma was not prepared for it. She thanked the powers that be that Regina was with her. The woman was at home in places like this. The streets were full of vendors, horses, carriages, and kids playing, and Emma didn't like it. She liked wide, open fields, and rolling hills. The only thing that was similar was that the smell of horse poop was strong.

Vendors were yelling in her ears, but the one thing that made her feel not so lost in a huge city was Regina's hand in hers, guiding her along the streets. Regina had taken their horses to a livery stable, paying the stable boy handsomely. Then, she took them to a hotel, and booked two adjoining rooms. Emma was glad that Regina had so much money; usually when she traveled, she went to really cheap motels. Maybe letting Regina come along hadn't been such a bad idea.

Emma hadn't really prepared for this journey—she hadn't even asked Mary Margaret for Ruby's address. She and Regina had traveled light, so taking their belongings up the stairs to their hotel rooms was easy. Regina went to her hotel room, carefully taking each of her dresses out of her bag. They'd stopped by her house on the way out of town, but she hadn't told anyone where she was going. It was an impulsive decision, and Regina didn't often do that.

But to keep this bumbling idiot of a deputy safe, she supposed an impulsive decision was a small price to pay. Having finished her unpacking, Regina walked out to the hallway and softly knocked on Emma's door.

Emma opened the door, but Regina quickly averted her eyes when she saw that Emma wasn't fully dressed. Her shirt had been pulled off (Regina noticed that it was carelessly thrown on the floor) and the woman before her was just in a sleeveless shirt and underwear.

"Miss Swan, you're indecent," Regina said, trying to tamp down the nerves that suddenly sprung up in her stomach out of nowhere.

The woman just shrugged. "I figured it was you, though, so..."

Regina chose not to think about the implications of that sentence. Obviously Emma was totally comfortable letting Regina see her in her underwear. Regina heaved a breath, reminding herself that they had a killer to catch.

"I suggest you get dressed. We are not here to sightsee, Miss Swan."

"Yeah, I know," Emma said, her arms hanging limply at her sides. She still hadn't moved from the doorway to put on clothes, and Regina shouldn't have been uncomfortable. She'd seen lots of girls in various states of undress; in her line of work, it was inevitable. But seeing Emma like this made her wonder just what Emma would look like, totally naked.

That scared the hell out of her.

"_Please_ put on a shirt. Seeing you like this is…distracting."

Emma quirked an eyebrow. "I'm distracting you?"

"Well, yes. Please, just put on a shirt and let me in, so we're not standing out in the hall."

Emma stepped aside, smirking as Regina swept past her. She picked up her shirt and pulled it on, then turned to see Regina sitting primly on a chair next to the desk. Her room was well furnished and the bed was huge.

Regina spoke. "So, since we have no idea where to find this girl, or August, for that matter, we should start asking around. That will take a while though. This city, as I'm sure you've noticed, is a lot bigger than Boston. Since you don't know where Ruby lives, we'll have to go around town and look for her. See if anyone knows her."

"I know, Regina, I was a bounty hunter, remember?"

"Well then, let's get on with it." Regina said, hoping Emma wouldn't hear her teeth grinding.

The two of them walked down the city streets. Summer was slowly coming to a close. It was late August, and they could feel that the air was slightly crisper. Regina and Emma walked down so many streets that Emma got lost, but Regina apparently had a better sense of direction. She walked with purpose to different shops, asking people if they knew Ruby. Emma's feet started to ache after a few hours, and she was sure that Regina's were as well. The woman wore high heeled shoes that didn't look comfortable at all. But Regina didn't complain.

They had been out for five hours before Regina decided to call it a day. Emma sighed in relief, then let Regina take her hand to lead her back through the streets. They were walking down a narrow alleyway, when a man suddenly appeared in one of the small doorways they were passing.

"Hey, sweetheart," the man drawled, addressing Regina. "How would you like to…get to know each other better?" He slinked closer to them, and Emma seethed.

"Get lost, buddy," Emma said, taking a protective stance in front of Regina, all the while trying to pass the guy.

"Don't tell me she's with you?" The man laughed, as if he couldn't believe it. To him, Emma probably looked like a scrawny boy.

"Yeah, that's right," Emma said, her jaw set. Then, before Regina had time to know what was happening, Emma pulled her back. Without warning, she pushed Regina up against one of the walls of the buildings, and caught her lips in a kiss. Regina's eyes widened, and she gave a small squeak of surprise. The kiss was hot, almost desperate. It was different. Regina's eyes soon closed, and she relaxed, instinctively bringing her hands up to tangle themselves in Emma's hair.

Before she could, Emma pulled away. She looked at the man who'd been bothering them, and smirked. The put his hands up, and slowly backed away. Emma watched him go, then turned to Regina, who, by this time, had managed to regain some composure. The feel of the kiss was still on her mouth, her whole being, in fact, but she fixed Emma with a cold glare.

"I'm sure there were other ways to deal with that pest, Miss Swan. You didn't have to…do that."

"I'm sorry…I didn't think."

"Well, next time, ask for permission, or at least let me know what you're doing before you randomly throw yourself at me."

Emma smirked, and looked into Regina's eyes as a twinkle played across hers. "Next time? So…you're saying you want me to kiss you again?"

Regina stepped back, appalled. At least, that's the expression she was trying for. "That is in no way what I just said. In fact, I'd be happy if that never happened again."

Emma nodded. "Fine. It won't."

Regina blinked, trying to put what happened behind her. When they reached a wider street with crowds of people, her hand found Emma's again, and they made their way back to the hotel. The next day, they did the same thing as before, this time covering a different part of town. Near the south of town, they both went into a millinery shop, where a man was arranging different bonnets on a stand. They asked him if he knew a Ruby Booth.

"Yeah, I do," the man said. "She works in the seamstress shop next door."

Regina and Emma exchanged a small smile. They'd finally found her.

"Thank you, Mr…?" Regina looked at the man.

"Jefferson."

"Well, thank you, Mr. Jefferson. Good day."

She and Emma practically ran to the shop next door. They both walked to the counter. A girl soon came to help them.

"Hi," Emma began. "Does a Ruby Booth work here?"

"Yes, but she's not working today."

Before Emma could groan loudly and slam her head against the counter, Regina spoke up. "Do you have her address? We need to speak with her; it's urgent, I'm afraid."

Emma would _never _admit it, but Regina was starting to be incredibly helpful. She was glad that she'd come along with her.

But again, she had no intention of letting Regina know that.

Regina wrote down the address, and soon, they were out on the street again. Regina pulled Emma harshly along, and she complained more than once that she felt like her arm was about to get ripped off. But Regina paid her no attention. If anything, she yanked harder.

Okay, forget about helpful. This woman was a pain in the ass.

It was getting dark when they reached the neighborhood where Ruby lived. Regina looked at the parchment again, and stopped in front of 213 Perry Street. She looked at Emma.

"Before we go in, Miss Swan, I think we should have some ground rules. Don't scare the girl. Be tactful; if we tell her that her husband is a murderer, bank robber, and who knows what else, she'll be horrified. And we need her to be rational."

"Okay, fine. I'll just say that we need her to come with us to Boston, and not to ask any questions."

Regina frowned. "Maybe you'd better let me do the talking, dear." She patted Emma's hand condescendingly and walked up the porch steps.

Adjusting her hat on her head, Emma swaggered up behind Regina, waiting for her to knock on the door. The brunette raised a glove hand and knocked on the door primly. Emma placed her hand on her gun, in case August was there.

A young woman, probably around the same age as Emma, opened the door. Her eyebrows raised in surprise. Emma noticed that she was little rotund around her midsection. The girl was pregnant. August would have a kid. Sudddenly, Emma realized that she would be stealing someone's father away. Guilt prickled at her.

Regina spoke, always in control. "Hello, Mrs. Booth," she greeted. "We were wondering if we could come into talk? I know you don't know us, but we have important things to tell you, and I'd rather not have this conversation outside."

_Wow_, Emma thought. Regina was amazing. While Emma would have just barreled into the house, Regina was polite, kind, and classy.

The woman before them just frowned. "How do you know my name? Who sent you here?"

Emma spoke up. "We're from Boston. I'm a deputy there, and Regina and I came to warn—oof." Emma felt Regina's elbow in her ribs. She winced, massaging the area.

"Please just let us come in. I will explain everything." Regina fixed Ruby with a pleading look, and it worked.

The house was well-furnished, with lots of paintings along the hallway. The kitchen looked especially homey, and Emma admired the tablecloth. It was orange with purple flowers embroidered in it. Ruby gestured to the table, and both Emma and Regina sat down. Ruby wordlessly prepared some tea for them.

Emma was tempted to ask Regina why the hell she'd nudged her in the ribs, but she didn't have time before Ruby joined them at the table, a tray of tea in her hands.

"I hope you like it, it's chamomile."

Regina smiled. "My favorite."

Emma hated chamomile tea. In fact, she didn't really like any kind of tea; she was more of a coffee girl. But she smiled anyway, and sipped at the liquid.

Ruby smiled. She was beautiful, Emma thought. Her smile was radiant, and her hair fell in perfect waves down her shoulders. She looked at Regina expectantly.

"We have reason to believe that you are in danger, Mrs. Booth. Your husband is not the man you think he is. We would have sent you a telegram warning you, instead of coming here, but we were afraid he might be here, and intercept the message."

Ruby blinked. "What do you mean, August isn't the man I think he is? He's a carpet salesman."

Regina hesitated for a moment. "He leads a double life, I'm afraid."

"He killed one of our deputies," Emma blurted.

Regina glared at the blonde, who cringed; she'd done exactly what Regina had told her not to do. Emma shrunk a little in her seat, knowing Regina would deal with her later.

Ruby's first reaction was denial. "No. He can't be. I know him, he's a good man, a selfless one. He'd never do something like that." She looked between Regina and Emma, then back. "You and your friend are crazy."

"She's my colleague," Regina corrected smoothly. "We're not friends."

"She's right…we'd never be friends, not in this lifetime anyway," Emma babbled.

Ruby frowned at the two of them, knowing she'd unwittingly hit a nerve. She cleared her throat loudly. "Wait, you're a woman?" She looked in surprise at Emma. "Why are you dressed like that?"

Emma was about to say some very choice words before she felt Regina's hand clawing hers. She groaned in pain, trying to pry Regina's fingernails off.

Regina just smiled at Ruby. "I really have no idea why she dresses the way she does, Mrs. Booth, but as I've been trying to tell you, there are more pressing matters to attend to than Miss Swan's hideous wardrobe."

God. Emma needed better friends…no, _colleagues_. Preferably ones that didn't insult her at every opportunity.

"I need you to leave; I've heard enough."

"Mary Margaret sent me," Emma protested as a last ditch effort. Regina relaxed her grip on Emma's hand. Ruby's head snapped up, looking at Emma in surprise.

"How do you know her?" Both Regina and Ruby asked in chorus, and Emma looked between them and frowned.

"I met her on my way to Chicago. She was going to New York to get married. Anyway, she's back in Boston now, as you probably know," she nodded to Ruby. Then her eyes swept Regina's face. "Why did you want to know how I met her? Do you know her?"

"It's not important right now, Miss Swan. Mrs. Booth, Mary Margaret is your friend, I take it?"

The girl nodded. "Yes, we're very close."

"Then you should trust us," Emma said. "She just wants you to be safe, and she knows you're not safe here."

"How do I know you're not lying to me?"

"Mary Margaret owns Nolan's pets with her husband, David. She has blue eyes and dark hair, so dark it's almost black. She's kind, and would never hurt anyone," Emma said, not noticing how Regina stiffened at her words.

Ruby believed her, and soon went to her room to pack. The house had two stories, and Emma could hear Ruby's footsteps above them. Emma stood up from the table and started pacing. Once they got Ruby to safety, they would wait for August here. Hopefully he'd come to see Ruby, and they could set up a trap for him. They'd have him in custody…whenever he bothered to show up.

Emma wondered with a sinking feeling if he never would come back to New York. They'd have to keep looking for him.

When it came down to it, though, Emma would never give up looking for the man. Kevin's face flashed into her mind; his heart- shattering scream as Bert fell on the ground. She clenched her fists and paced faster. Ruby needed to hurry up.

"Stop pacing." Regina's voice cut through the room.

"Stop being so bossy."

"You are not going to be of help to anyone if you're twitchier than an adolescent boy. Sit down."

Emma didn't sit, just stopped pacing for a moment. "How do you do it?"

"What?"

"Manage to sit there and be so calm, when there's a killer on the loose, who might be plotting to kill us all even as we speak."

Regina placed her hands on her lap. "Living in big cities like this is hard, Miss Swan. I've been in a lot of dire situations. I've learned that worrying about what will happen does no good. I try to focus on the now."

Emma blinked. She learned something new about this woman every day.

Ruby finally came down the stairs, two suitcases in tow. The three women walked out of the house, and waved down a carriage to take them to the train station. Emma bought one ticket and gave it to Ruby. She told her the pet store address, so she could find Mary Margaret once she got to Boston. It was about a 6 hour train ride from New York. In the meantime, she and Regina would stay in New York and look for August.

Ruby waved to both of them as the train pulled out of the station, its pistons screeching forward. Emma smiled and waved, and when the trail was out of sight, she turned to Regina, who had proven time and again on this trip that she was useful, smart, and resourceful. Emma considered taking her on more of her trips, in case she ever needed to track down more criminals.

But that thought was absurd. Regina wouldn't want to do this often. She wouldn't want to live on the road. Regina was many things, but she made it quite clear that Emma's lackey wasn't one of them. Emma took another look at the people around them, then started walking back to their hotel.

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Regina lied on her bed, clutching the soft pillow to her chest. She pushed one of the tassels out of her face, and contemplated what the next course of action would be.

They were in a city of about 515,000 people, and they didn't even know if August was in the city yet. Maybe he'd gone on to other towns, to rob more banks. Neither she nor Miss Swan had any idea. Regina turned her head to look out the window. There were street lamps that burned kerosene all through the night, and one of them was shining, splashing yellow light on the floor. Regina had thought it would be easier to come back; she'd thought New York City would be familiar, and comfortable. But she'd gotten too accustomed to the quieter town of Boston, and the anonymity that she had welcomed in the past just made her feel alone and isolated now.

Yesterday, Emma Swan had kissed her. Regina cursed her mind for pulling her back into the moment when she'd felt Emma's lips on hers. She'd been so quick, so assertive about it. It should have made Regina furious, the way Emma had taken such liberties with her.

No, it did make her furious.

It _did._

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The next morning, Regina woke. She'd slept well, which was surprising. She pulled her head off of the pillow, craning her neck to look out the window. The clock on the wall showed that it was a little before 8 o'clock. Regina disentangled herself from her bedclothes and stood up, stretching her arms and hearing the bones in her feet make little popping noises. She made her way to her closet, and picked out a brown skirt and silk blue shirt. Her hair didn't take long to brush as it was rather short.

After her morning toilette was complete, she put on her shoes and knocked loudly on the door to Emma's room. They were adjoined, so Regina didn't have to step out into the hall.

Emma slung the door open, looking like the bad side of awful. Thankfully, she was dressed, though her suspenders were still hanging down. Regina smiled at her.

"Why are you up so early?" Emma asked groggily. "And why are you smiling?"

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" Regina smirked.

"Yeah, sure. Just give me five more minutes."

"No. You'll spend those sleeping, and then when I knock on the door again in five minutes, I'll have to drag you out of bed, and that will take another ten minutes."

"That won't happen."

"It did yesterday. And the day before that."

Emma groaned. "Regina, please, you're not my mother. If August even is in the city yet, it'll take forever to look for him. I need to be well rested."

"Ten hours of sleep is plenty, Miss Swan."

"For you, maybe."

"Miss Swan, every second we spend here arguing is one that we are letting the criminal who killed your deputy get farther away from us." Regina knew she had Emma there.

"You are way too good at this," Emma grumbled as she pulled up her suspenders and rushed to put on her boots.

Regina just smiled and walked behind her companion, congratulating herself on the fact that she could make Miss Swan do pretty much anything she wanted. They left the hotel, and walked down the street that wasn't that crowded because it was still early. Emma suggested that they go back to Ruby's house, so they could set up some traps in case August showed up. On the way there, Emma dragged Regina to a farmer's market to buy some bags of hayseed. Regina had no idea what she wanted that for, and, as she was allergic to the stuff, she couldn't stop sneezing to ask.

They stopped by the livery stable, and Emma hooked up Mo and Regina's horse, Destiny, to a cart. She plopped the hayseed inside as Regina watched her, her eyes blotchy. She was grateful when she was able to put a little distance between her and the hayseed.

Emma climbed up on the front of the cart, and held out her hand to help Regina up. Regina took it, but quickly released it when she was settled on the seat. She saw Emma frown out of the corner of her eye, but neither of them said anything.

They got to Ruby's house and Emma unloaded the bags of hayseed, carrying them two at a time into the house. Her shoulder muscles flexed under the weight; Regina could see the tightness there even through the shirt Emma was wearing. Her curls fell about her back in waves, and Regina imagined running her hands through it, caressing her, bringing her hands up to Emma's neck and—

"Regina, you wanna help me out? I know you're allergic to the stuff, but could you just hold your nose or something?"

Regina glared at the blonde, then hurriedly pulled one of the bags of hayseed up the steps and through the red door. She managed to only sneeze three times.

"What are you going to do with these, anyway?" Regina asked, her nose running.

Emma wordlessly handed her a handkerchief, then looked around the house. "I'm setting up booby traps. I'll rig the bags so that if August comes in here, 2 bags will fall on him, and this cowbell—" Emma pulled a brown copper bell out of her satchel—"will start ringing."

Regina was impressed. She tried to keep her expression from betraying that, though. "One problem, Miss Swan. If the bell sounds, how will we get to him in time? We won't be able to hear it."

Emma smirked. "Already thought of that. The house next to this one has a room for rent. We'll stay there, that way we'll be able to hear if the bell goes off."

Regina nodded. "Well done, Miss Swan. You've managed to pull off something bigger than your boots."

Emma just glared at her, pulled out some rope from her bag and began working on the booby traps. Regina had nothing else to do but watch her.

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Ruby opened the window of the train, breathing in the clear Boston air. It was much less convoluted than what she was used to, and her lungs greedily sucked it in. She smiled, took the conductor's proffered hand, and descended down the steep steps. Her luggage was waiting for her, and she lifted both suitcases with ease—a feat for a pregnant woman. She started walking down the street, asking people where Barlow Street was.

She walked down the boardwalk, surprised as people smiled and nodded at her. She was wearing a red velvet jacket, a red bonnet with black feathers in it, and a black skirt that she'd made herself. She was sure she looked out of place, but no one seemed to mind. Her eyes flitted up to the street sign, and she turned, walking down Barlow Street.

Mary Margaret was cleaning a bird cage when Ruby pushed the door to the pet store open. The woman's back was to her, and Ruby cleared her throat loudly, barely able to keep herself from hugging the woman in excitement. Her friend turned, her face exploding into a smile.

"Ruby!" Mary Margaret cried, and encircled her in a hug.

David came out of the backroom, having heard his wife. He joined in the hug, patting Ruby enthusiastically.

"I'm so glad you're safe," Mary Margaret breathed. She slowly extricated herself from Ruby's arms. "But where is Emma? Didn't she bring you back?"

"Uh, if you're referring to the blond woman who dresses like a man, then no. She decided to stay in New York, to track August down. It's still a lot to take in. My husband is a wanted murderer…." Ruby's voice cracked, and she clutched at her chest.

Mary Margaret looked at her sympathetically. "I know. It's been a shock for all of us."

"But I'm married to him. How could I not have known?"

David spoke up. "Don't blame yourself. Don't worry, Emma will find him, and bring him to justice."

Ruby smirked. "Yeah, well, from the way she and her companion were fighting, I doubt they've made much progress."

"Oh, I didn't know Emma had someone with her. Who was it?"

Ruby wracked her memory. "Regina."

Mary Margaret's face turned an odd purple color. Ruby narrowed her eyes, wondering what was happening. "Is something wrong?"

"Uh, no. It might not even be that Regina. Never mind, Ruby." Mary Margaret plastered on a smile, and started to make arrangements for Ruby to stay with them. David picked up her suitcases and led her upstairs, insisting that a woman in her condition shouldn't be carrying luggage.

Ruby was now four months pregnant; her baby was due in January. It was a little overwhelming to think about how, now that August was a criminal, she'd have to raise the baby on her own. But, she reminded herself as Mary Margaret ushered her into the kitchen, she wasn't alone. Not anymore. Her child would be surrounded by love. She sat down in one of the wooden chairs at the small table in the kitchen, and smiled as Mary Margaret just cradled her face in her hands and looked at her with the caring, curious expression that she wore so well.

"So, Ruby, how are you doing?" Mary Margaret asked softly.

"You mean, considering my marriage is pretty much over, and my husband will most likely get hung?" Ruby said, trying to be sarcastic so the situation wouldn't hurt so much. It didn't work, and tears sprung into her eyes of their own accord. "I'm fine," she lied.

"It's okay to cry, Ruby."

"But I shouldn't still love him, or care for him at all. He's robbed, and killed who knows how many people. He kept his whole life a secret from me, from all of us, and in spite of all that, I still want to save him. To see if he ever loved me at all."

Mary Margaret placed her hand on Ruby's. "You did not waste your life, if that's what you think. Even if August was not the man you thought he was, you did have a good life."

"But it was all a lie!" Ruby protested, her tears falling.

Mary Margaret pointed to Ruby's belly. "That lie gave you a child. A beautiful, wonderful being whom you will love with your whole heart."

Ruby smiled through her tears, and leaned forward to hug her friend.

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"Miss Swan, it's bad enough that we have to sleep in the same room. I am _not_ sharing a bed with you." Regina scoffed.

Emma rolled her eyes. Regina had been acting more cantankerous than usual, and that was saying something. She had no idea what brought that on; she'd thought they were getting along better. They hadn't killed each other yet, at least.

Emma didn't know how much longer that would last. Not if Regina kept this up.

"Look, Regina. We are here for one reason: to catch August. I need to be well rested, and not have a back cramp in the morning. I am sleeping in this bed. You can sleep outside in the gutter for all I care."

"You smell like the gutter as it is. Why don't you—"

"What I don't understand is," Emma grumbled, pushing Regina's five dresses to the corner of the small wardrobe in the room—"why you had to pack so many dresses."

"I like variety."

"Well, I thought you'd travel light. I only packed two shirts and one pair of pants, and I'm fine."

"_I'm_ not. That's the reason you smell the way you do. There is no way I am sleeping next to you unless you bathe."

Emma was so tempted to take the sleeve of Regina's velvet dress and choke her with it. A knock at the door drew her attention away from the infuriating brunette in the middle of the room.

Mrs. Logan, the woman who they were renting from, was standing in the doorway. She was an older woman, probably in her fifties, and she looked at Emma with a hint of concern. "Is everything all right, sir?"

Emma nodded. "Yes, ma'am, me and the missus are just having a lover's quarrel."

Mrs. Logan just looked at Regina strangely, then at Emma. "All right then. Have a good night."

"Thank you, ma'am. You as well," Emma called.

She shut the door and turned to see Regina seething. "We're married now?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "You think she'd let us sleep in the same room if she'd thought I was a young man?"

Regina nodded stiffly, shutting up for once in her life. _Score 1 for Swan._

"Go take a bath, Miss Swan."

"Fine. But if August comes while I'm bathing, and I'm not able to catch him because I'm buck naked, I'm blaming you."

Regina ignored her.

The water from the well was cold, and it staved off her tiredness for a while. She really wanted to get to sleep; all the anxiety of looking for August had taken its toll on her body. She was aching everywhere, especially her neck and back. She rubbed the rough sponge over her body, down her ribs, and her hands came to rest on her inner thighs. She had small red marks there from riding so much. Her head lolled back, and she closed her eyes, trying to relax. So many things in her life were changing, and she wasn't sure when that change had started to take place.

Then she realized; it happened the second she'd saved Regina from the fire. That had led to Gold becoming her enemy, which led to her looking for Eddie in Chicago. She'd met Mary Margaret on her way there, and now, she was tracking down Mary Margaret's best friend's husband, who had murdered Bert Jackson.

So confusing, Emma mused. Everything in her life had become so confusing since Regina had decided to get caught in that damn fire. Emma was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice Regina watching her from the window above.

When she got into the room, feeling much better, she found Regina sitting on the bed, reading a book, but she frowned when she saw that the cover was upside down.

"What were you doing before I came in here?" Emma demanded, her voice full of suspicion. She immediately flew to the drawers, opening them to see if Regina had messed with anything of hers.

"Reading, Miss Swan. My, but you are paranoid," Regina said haughtily.

"What are you reading?" Emma smirked and turned around, satisfied that her belongings were safe.

It was then that Regina's eyes focused on the page, and she hurriedly turned the book right side up. "_Anne of Green Gables_."

"Ooh, I love that book."

Regina looked at her, shocked. "Really?"

"Yeah, I read it one summer. I love Anne's imagination. And forget about Gilbert; she's obviously in love with Diana."

"Yes, but those kinds of relationships aren't…proper. Or accepted."

"Doesn't make it any less true," Emma shrugged.

She didn't notice Regina's eyes on her form as she yanked her shirt off and quickly dried her hair with the towel sitting by the wash bin. She yawned, pulled on an undershirt to sleep in, then climbed into the bed beside Regina. She closed her eyes, letting sleep overtake her slowly. The two women were facing opposite directions, but the balls of their feet touched ever so gently. Emma didn't move them; she was too tired. She fell asleep quickly, feeling less anxious than she had on the whole trip.

Emma woke to something moving beneath her. She cracked one eye open, then moved quickly when she saw that her arms were encircling Regina's body. The rough movement shook Regina fully awake, and Emma was out of the bed before Regina turned her body to face her.

"It's Sunday," Regina spoke, rubbing her eyes. "It's the day of rest, Miss Swan."

"Not for us. We need to catch August. I'm going out to look for him, and I want you to stay here unless you hear the bell I rigged at Ruby's house."

Regina normally would have argued. But she didn't, and Emma almost thought to check and see if the other woman was running a fever. Regina didn't look sickly, or pale. Emma turned to hide her smile. _Score 2 for Swan_.

Emma Swan was out on the streets a half an hour later, kicking at random sprigs of grass that were sticking up through the boardwalks. Her eyes fell on a man across the street who was wearing a flamboyant red top hat with a black bow.

She watched the man walk on the boardwalk; he was walking rather fast. She squinted. It looked a lot like the man that she and Regina had talked to in the millinery shop. What was his name? Jeffreys? No….Jefferson. Emma blinked, and focused. She shouldn't have found his presence so off-putting, but something about him was suspicious. She hadn't caught it before because she'd been so set on finding Ruby. Jefferson was definitely going somewhere in a hurry. Emma started to follow him. She stayed on the opposite side of the street, though; she wanted to be discreet. She bumped into quite a few people, some of them shoving past her violently. She hated this city.

She turned down quite a few streets, going further and further into the heart of the city, Carriages flew past her, but she paid them no mind. She ran to keep the man with the top hat in sight, and finally, he stopped in front of a saloon, and went in. Gasping for air, Emma steadied herself, pulled her hat down, tucked her hair into a ponytail, and walked in with a little more swagger than usual. She hoped Jefferson wouldn't recognize her.

She saw him sit down next to a blonde man, and she bit her lip, wanting to hear what they were saying. She took a deep breath and walked to the bar, eyeing Jefferson in what she hoped was an inconspicuous manner. She strained her ears, only able to pick up a few words.

"I saw….they're setting a trap…"

Emma sucked in a breath, inadvertently catching Jefferson's attention. Their eyes met, and recognition flashed in the man's face.

_Shit,_ Emma thought.

In a matter of seconds, Emma had drawn her gun, and Jefferson was mirroring her, pointing his gun straight at her head. Emma glared at the man, who whispered something to his companion. He soon ran away, probably to warn August of Emma's presence. There was no way to get out of this, unless she shot the man in front of her. Nodding her head slightly, she cocked her gun, all the while glaring at Jefferson.

"You sure you want to do that, sweetheart?" Jefferson asked raspily. He took a few steps forward, and Emma froze momentarily.

"Where is August? Did you send that guy to go get him? I'd love to meet him," Emma smirked, trying to show the man she wasn't scared. Fake it until you make it, as her foster dad used to say.

"No, August is going to where your girlfriend is staying. Can't wait to get a go at her, I heard she's really pretty." Jefferson answered, a snarl on his face.

"No…." Emma gasped. In one swift movement, she flew towards Jefferson, hitting him with the barrel of her pistol. He staggered back, giving her enough time to run out of the saloon. She cursed, remembering she'd left Mo at the livery stable. She waved to a man riding, screaming for him to get down off of his horse. When he just glared at her, she jumped forward, pulled him forcefully off of the saddle and swung on before he could do anything.

"I promise I'll bring it back," she called, galloping away. She ignored the man's cursing and kicked the horse harder in the ribs. A few shots were fired, but she dodged them easily.

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It was official. Emma Swan had turned Regina into a sick, perverse peeping Tom. Blaming Emma on her new…feelings was easier than analyzing why she'd watched Emma bathe last night. She shouldn't have, and she really couldn't understand why she had. But the window had been open, and Regina had a full view of Emma's naked body. She'd been brushing her hair by the wash bin, and her eye had fallen on Emma. And she didn't look away.

She had watched as Emma touched her breasts, scrubbing in between them with the sponge. Her nipples were hard, pointy, because of the cold water, Regina assumed. The water splashed everywhere, down Emma's neck and face, and Regina involuntarily touched her own neck, breathing hard. She closed her eyes for a long moment, unable to stop herself from wondering what it would be like to have Emma's naked, wet body next to hers. When she'd opened her eyes, Emma was not in the tub. In a panic, Regina had grabbed one of the books on the shelf. Apparently the last lodger had been an avid reader, and hadn't had the money to send for their books yet.

She didn't realize she'd been reading it upside down until Emma Swan had come in the room, embarrassing her further. Regina's cheeks blushed at the memory.

She was in so much trouble.

She was in the rooming house, and had nothing else to do but lay on the bed and read. She was on the thirteenth chapter of _Anne of Green Gables _when she heard Mrs. Logan call for her. She rolled her eyes, wishing that the woman would just leave her alone. She'd already been up to her room three times that morning, asking where her 'husband' was.

Putting the book down, Regina straightened her skirts and pushed herself off of the bed. She opened her door, calling down the stairs.

"What is it, Mrs. Logan?"

There was no answer. Regina frowned, placing her hand on the stair banister. She slowly walked down, the stairs creaking under her. When she reached the bottom step, she turned to walk down the narrow hallway, and gasped.

August Booth, wanted thief and murderer, was standing at the end of hallway, holding a gun to Mrs. Logan's head. His arm was wrapped around her waste, and he stepped back, pulling the woman with him.

"Let her go, August. I believe it's me you want," Regina spoke, barely managing to keep her voice level. Goosebumps were running up and down her arms.

"No, actually, it's the deputy I want. Where is she?"

"I don't know."

"Oh come on. You have her so whipped, I doubt she takes a shit without asking you if it's okay."

Despite being held hostage by a madman, Mrs. Logan turned to him, even as she felt the barrel on the side of her head. "Language, young man," she corrected softly.

Regina turned her head to hide a smirk. Bet August just loved being mothered by a hostage.

"Shut up. Now, Regina, where is Emma?"

"I told you, I don't know. How do you know our names?"

August smirked. "You think you're so clever, don't you? I've been at this for fifteen years. I have a few tricks up my sleeve."

"Who did you send to spy on us?" Regina asked, holding her hands up. She mentally ran through all the people they'd met in the past week; they'd been careful to not let their names slip. When they were at Ruby's house, Emma had said her name, but Ruby couldn't have told anyone. Someone must have been following them.

August suddenly let Mrs. Logan out of his arms, but didn't let her get far. He pushed her against the wall and turned to point his gun at Regina.

"It doesn't matter. You're going to die, because you're too smart and know way too much already."

It all happened in slow motion. Mrs. Logan screamed as August cocked his gun, and he hit the woman across the face. Regina kept her hands up, meeting August's eyes. She was not a coward; she would look her death in the face. She heard a door open behind her, but didn't really register it. She kept her eyes on the barrel of August's gun.

The shot ran out just as she was shoved to the ground by a hard substance. She gasped, then saw a shock of curly blond hair above her. It tickled her face as the head it was attached to fell into her neck.

Emma Swan groaned in pain. Regina couldn't stop herself. She screamed in horror as she saw blood seeping from the left side of Emma's stomach. She knelt down, cradling the blonde's head in her lap. Regina looked up; August was gone. She yelled at Mrs. Logan to go get a doctor, and the woman nodded and ran out the door.

She'd catch August later. Right now, she had another idiot to take care of; one who had literally just taken a bullet for her.

Emma clutched Regina's hand. "That's my three to your one," Emma whispered, her breathing labored.

"Shut up, Miss Swan. You need your strength to keep breathing."

"I've saved your life three times now…and you've only saved me once…" Emma spoke almost tauntingly, totally ignoring her.

Regina would _not_ let this happen. She tried to keep her tears at bay, but one slipped out, then another. "Why—_why_ do you have to be such a noble, stupid hero?"

"It's the only thing I'm good at," Emma coughed. Then she closed her eyes and fell out of consciousness.

"No no no, Miss Swan, wake up. Stay awake, damn it!" Regina slapped the woman's cheeks, but Emma didn't open her eyes.

The doctor arrived at the house fifteen grueling, nail biting minutes later. Emma's face had turned a frightening purple color, and her hands hung limply at her sides. Regina hadn't moved; Emma's head was still in her lap, and Regina had begun stroking her hair, worried that Miss Swan would die at any moment.

The doctor walked into the house, and Regina was surprised to see that it was a woman. She knelt down, checking for Emma's pulse.

"She still has a pulse, but it's extremely weak. I need to take her to the hospital."

Regina was suspicious of newfangled medicines, but in this case, she didn't have any other choice. The only way for Emma to survive was if the bullet was taken out, and the wound stitched back up. She nodded imperceptibly and helped the doctor carry Emma out of the house. Regina climbed up onto the doctor's buggy, then gently took Emma from the doctor's arms.

She held Emma the whole way to the hospital, calling her an idiot over and over again.

When they got to St. Katherine's Hospital, Dr. Amanda Morris called to some nurses outside, who hurriedly ran to the buggy with a stretcher. Regina watched as Emma was hoisted into the hospital. She wanted to go with her, but Joan, one of the nurses, told her it would be best to just wait.

Waiting had never been more of a chore. Regina was usually a patient woman; she'd been taught that patience was a virtue, and her strict upbringing was hard to forget. But now she was so afraid that Emma would die, and then she'd be truly alone. She could never find and apprehend August without Emma's help.

But for her sake, she had to try. Steeling her resolve, Regina wiped away the tears she'd cried, then told Joan she'd be back later that night to check and see how Emma was.

She had a killer to catch. And when she caught him, she'd crush his manhood like a loaf of bread under a meat grinder.

The first thing she didn't understand was why August didn't just kill her too. He'd shot at Emma and then disappeared. He didn't even bother to try to shoot Mrs. Logan, or anyone who might have heard the shot fire. Regina guessed that he didn't want to attract too much attention. Too many gunshots on a quiet street would do just that. So he'd left, like the coward he was.

Her next task would be trying to figure out where he'd gone.

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Jefferson frowned at his hand. He was terrible at poker, and he grumbled as his two playmates grinned and threw more chips in the ring. He lit a cigar, and took a long drag. He was about to fold when the door to the dingy room flew open, and August was standing there, looking more rugged than usual. Jefferson took his attention away from the game, and the other two—Amos and Bud—kept playing without him. August's eyes flitted to the red bruise on Jefferson's jaw (courtesy of Emma Swan) but he didn't say anything. His expression was grim.

"What's wrong, boss?" Jefferson asked.

"I shot her," August breathed, hitting the table hard with both hands. His head hung limply from his shoulders.

"Who?'

"Emma. I aimed for Regina, but Emma leapt in front of the bullet."

"Did she die?"

"I don't know. All I know is, now we have to leave town. Regina is ten times cleverer than the blonde. She'll find us in a matter of days. She probably already knows that you're the one who spied on them," August answered.

Jefferson shuddered. "Okay, then, let's get the money from our last bank heist and clear out of town."

August shook his head. "That's just it. I have another heist planned…we can't leave until then."

"What? August, we don't need to—"

"It's already been set up."

Amos spoke up. "You can give the job to us, if you have somewhere to be."

"Nice try, asshole. You'd probably mess it up and get caught, then rat me out," August retorted.

Jefferson grinned. He was the only one August trusted. He should be, since they'd been robbing banks together for about ten years now. August had been all over the states, changing his name so he never got caught. The man was a genius; he always thought out every possible detail, organizing his plan so thoroughly that it made Jefferson's brain hurt. But Jefferson was sure that if they didn't leave town soon, Regina would find a way to sneak up on them.

He knew the second she had walked into his shop that she was one of a kind. She was smart, pretty and classy, and dangerous if provoked. Jefferson had followed them to Ruby's house, watching her and the deputy talk to Ruby. He admired how Regina had been so calm, yet assertive.

She would make an impressive trophy. If she did come after them, he would be ready.


	5. This Ain't Right

This Ain't Right

It was the most excruciating pain Emma had ever felt. It ripped through her abdomen like a shiv, and took the only breath she had, making them labored and slow. The thing she saw before the world went gloriously black was a pair of brown eyes, brimming over with tears.

It was worth it, Emma thought, before she closed her eyes.

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Regina had to keep busy. She would go insane if she spent one second resting, because she knew that if she had time to think, the reality of what Emma had done for her would come crashing down on her, and it was too overwhelming to think about. She had no idea why Emma had risked her life again_—for her._ They despised each other; that was a fact. The woman must really be a complete blockhead, jumping in the line of fire for her enemies. If she made a habit of doing that, she wouldn't live much longer.

She might not live long as it is. That fact scared Regina more than she expected. More than she cared to admit.

The first order of business was to send a telegram to Sheriff Graham in Boston, telling him of Emma's condition. She warned him to keep it secret; she didn't want the whole town of Boston in a panic. She also didn't want anyone knowing that she had dropped everything to follow Miss Swan's incompetent behind all the way to New York. But that was not important at the moment—the only thing that mattered was making sure Miss Swan would get better, and finding August.

St. Katherine's Hospital was on the north side of town. After the shooting, Regina had moved her and Emma's belongings back to the hotel. She didn't want August coming back to finish what he started. She wanted to make sure that he had no idea where she was. She hoped that was the case.

Regina would go to the hospital each night, asking for updates on how Emma was. Dr. Morris had given her adrenaline to keep her blood from clotting, and then dressed the wound. She hadn't had surgery yet, because Dr. Morris said it would be best to keep the wound bandaged for 24 hours so it wouldn't get infected. Regina didn't care about all the specifics behind the medical sciences; all she knew was, she needed Miss Swan's help, however loath she was to admit it.

On Tuesday morning, after having sent the telegram, she rode Destiny to the hospital. She looked more put together than she felt, but making sure she looked like her old self was the only way to cope with all the crazy things going on. She walked into the hospital, nodding authoritatively to nurses in the hall. She made her way to the ward where Emma was, and pulled a dark oak chair out from behind the table by Emma's bed.

She sat on it, crossing her legs. Emma was sleeping; in the two days she'd been at the hospital, Regina hadn't caught her at a time when she was conscious. Regina began trailing her fingers along her skirt, just to have something to do. She breathed, trying to relax. What she wanted to do was wake Emma up and start screaming at her for being such an idiot, but she wasn't sure the nurses would be happy if she did that.

Fortunately for her, she didn't have to 'accidentally' nudge Emma awake; the blond started to stir, and Regina immediately straightened. It was about eleven o'clock, and Emma was probably getting hungry. Joan usually gave her soup, so she didn't have to make much of an effort to chew and swallow.

Emma's green eyes fell on Regina, but the light that usually shone in them was dimmed considerably. Regina knew she was still incredibly weak, so she staved off the desire to start yelling at her.

"Hi," Emma said, looking around the hospital ward. "What happened?"

Regina breathed. "In an act of stupid heroics, you jumped in front of a bullet that was meant for me. August got away, and here we are."

"A thank you would be nice," Emma coughed.

Regina just pursed her lips.

Emma rolled her eyes. "God, Regina, now is not the time to be mad at me! I'm suffering enough as it is. We can't fight now; we have to figure out how to catch August and Jefferson."

Regina's ears perked up. "Jefferson? The man at the millinery shop?"

Emma nodded. "That's the one. He's August's accomplice." Emma stopped, as if she just remembered something. "Oh, and I—uh—I have something that you need to do for me."

"What makes you so sure I'll—"

"Three to one, remember? You owe me."

Regina clenched her fists. She'd be beholden to this imbecile for the rest of her life. "What is it then?"

"I kinda—stole a horse from somebody."

"Miss Swan!"

"Hey, if I hadn't, it would be you in this hospital bed. I couldn't let that happen…"

"Why not?"

Emma frowned. "Because I wanted to protect you," she said, like it was obvious.

Regina leaned forward. "I am not a frail child, Miss Swan. And if you wanted to protect me, you wouldn't have tried to get yourself killed," she said sharply, trying to blink back the tears that were threatening to spill. She didn't want to show this woman just how much anxiety she'd caused, but it was harder to hate Miss Swan when she kept doing things like this.

Emma raised her head a fraction of an inch. "You really care that much?"

"No," Regina said quickly, defensively. "But I am not sure I'd be able to catch August without your help. Not to mention Sheriff Graham would be mad at me when I come back and you're not with me. So don't you dare die." Regina ordered, trying her hardest to slam her cold, indifferent veneer back into place. It would not do to have Emma thinking she actually cared about her when she certainly didn't.

"Funny, I kind of figured you'd be my cause of death. Guess I didn't quite picture it like this, though," Emma joked.

Regina glared at her for a moment. "So, the horse you stole. Where can I find the man you stole it from?"

Emma bit her lip, deep in thought. "I was outside of a saloon near the south of town…that's all I know."

"That's great, Miss Swan. I'll find him in no time," Regina said sarcastically.

Just then, there was a disturbance in the ward. The door burst open, and a figure came stomping through it, heading straight towards them.

"Oh shit," Emma said, shrinking underneath her blanket.

Regina would have enjoyed seeing Emma cower a lot more if the woman's health wasn't already at risk. She had a bullet still lodged in her abdomen, for God's sake. The threat of whoever this was certainly wouldn't be good for her stress levels.

The cowboy stalked up to the bed. "You took my horse," he said, but his voice was higher than Regina had expected.

"Yeah, about that…I kind of…lost it," Emma looked up at the intruder sheepishly.

"What?" The cowboy shrieked.

"Miss Swan, how do you expect to pay this man back?" Regina demanded.

The cowboy cut in. "Woman," came the voice, and Regina audibly gasped. The person standing before them took off their hat, and thick brown locks flowed down their shoulders.

So Emma wasn't the only woman liked to dress in men's clothes. Well, more power to her, Regina thought.

"What's your name?" Emma asked.

"Jacquelyn. But everyone calls me Jack."

"Well, Jack, I'm sure Regina can pay you back for the horse," Emma grinned evilly as Regina whirled on her.

"All right. That would be a hundred dollars," Jack said, holding out her hand.

"You're going to pay me back every penny of this, Miss Swan," Regina gritted, and opened her purse. She placed some bills in Jack's hand, then watched her leave. Emma slid under the covers, and Regina could tell she was expecting her to blow up. But Regina plastered on a smile, however fake it felt, and reminded herself that she was in a hospital, and it was tacky to hurt someone that was already injured.

"I _will_ pay you back, I promise," Emma said.

"Good. Just make sure you get better."

Emma smiled. Regina managed to give a small smile in return, because she didn't want to seem ungrateful.

"Thank you. But this doesn't change the fact—" she smirked—"that I still despise you."

Emma donned a look of mock hurt. "Love you too," she said, her tone playful.

Regina momentarily froze, looking down at her hands. A blush crept onto her cheeks, and she didn't dare look at Emma in the eyes. Miss Swan just had to keep surprising her. It was in her nature to be unruly, unmanageable, and unpredictable, which didn't really sit well with her. Regina liked control. She liked being able to know how people would act and use that to her advantage. Some would call that manipulative, but Regina didn't care. She liked order.

And Emma Swan was the opposite of order. She'd burst into her life the night of the fire, saving her from certain death. Her whole life had slowly changed, becoming something that Regina couldn't compartmentalize. She hated that.

She _hated _what the deputy was doing to her. She was still blushing when Emma cleared her throat.

"I was kidding. You know I was kidding, right?" Emma asked, raising her hands in surrender.

Regina shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable. "Your sense of humor is atrocious, dear. You may want to work on that."

"Sure. I'll make sure to, once I get out of here." Emma smirked, unfazed.

Regina left a half an hour later, feeling decidedly confused. Her feelings for Miss Swan were becoming harder to deny. But she would keep on denying them, even if it killed her.

Ironic, considering what Emma had just done for her.

Regina swung onto Destiny, making a soft clicking noise with her mouth. She rode English style, loosely holding the reins in her fingers. She'd been getting more used to riding, now that she was in a huge city where walking across town took the better part of a day. She walked her horse down the streets, looking for the Sheriff's office. She stopped by a candy shop on the way there, buying herself some chocolates. She placed some pieces in her saddle bag, thinking that she'd give Miss Swan some if—no, when—she got better.

The Sheriff's office was right in the heart of town. Destiny was dog tired by the time Regina finally found the building sandwiched in between a saloon and the post office. She gracefully swung her legs on the same side of the saddle and slid to the ground, then tied her horse to a post.

She pushed the door to the office open, then looked around for a man with a badge. The place was crowded—apparently a lot of people had crimes to report, and Regina saw that there was a line forming, leading up to a desk where the sheriff was sitting. Grunting, she stepped at the back of the line and waited. When she finally reached the table, she saw the sheriff, a scruffy looking man with a blue bandana tied around his neck. Regina cleared her throat, and the man almost fell out of his chair as he craned his neck to look at her. He blinked his eyes a couple times, and Regina cleared her throat again, impatiently. She was used to men ogling her; she was not a bad looker, and she knew that. But she really didn't have the time to be objectified today.

The man's eyes came back into focus, and he fixed Regina with a warm smile. Being beautiful had its advantages. "What can I do for you, ma'am?"

"August Booth shot a fr—an acquaintance of mine, and I need you to help me catch him. I have reason to believe he is a big time criminal. He may go by different names, I'm not sure." She reached into her purse and pulled out August Booth's wanted poster. Miss Swan had suggested that they bring those and ask people if they'd seen him, and Regina was glad that she had thought of that.

She showed the poster to the man, and he frowned. He looked around the office then leaned closer. "Come with me outside."

Regina wordlessly followed him out of the crowded building and onto the boardwalk.

He looked at the poster again. "I think—yeah, we've been looking for this guy for a while. He goes by the name of Frank Mankiller, though."

Regina wrinkled her nose. "Frank Mankiller? Really?"

The man nodded. "I know. I guess he thought it was intimidating or something. The reward for him is 1000 dollars here. If you manage to nab him, it's all yours."

"Thank you, sir, but once I catch him, I'm planning on bringing him to Boston. He killed one of the deputies there."

"Here, he's responsible for at least ten murders—that we know of. I'm warning you, ma'am, the man is dangerous."

Regina suppressed an eye roll, tired of men treating her like a piece of china. "I know. Did I not tell you he shot at me?"

"No, you said that he shot a friend of yours."

"I said _acquaintance_. Miss Swan is not my friend."

"Lady, you just spent all afternoon looking for me, judging by the state of the wrinkles on your dress. Not to mention your horse looks beat. My old lady wouldn't even care to avenge me if I got shot, hell, she'd probably give the guy a kiss. This 'Miss Swan' is totally your friend," he smirked.

Regina just glared at him. She didn't even know the man, and he was being awfully presumptuous.

The sheriff stopped smirking, sensing her discomfort. "My name is Phillip Grey, nice to meet you." He held out his hand, but Regina didn't shake it, just burned her eyes into his like lasers. He slowly retracted his hand and cleared his throat.

"Now, what is your master plan to outsmart this 'August?'"

Regina shrugged and leaned against a tying post. "I don't know. Normally, Miss Swan is the brawn of the operations, and I'm the brains. But because she's in the hospital, the balance is off."

"Wait, I'm confused. Did Frank—er—August—shoot at you, or her?"

"He shot at me, but Emma jumped in front of the bullet."

Phillip gave a gasp. "Wow…ok. I'm amazed that you've been able to convince yourself you're not friends with her."

"Just shut up and let me think," Regina huffed. She closed her eyes for a moment, folding her arms in front of her chest. Jefferson. Jefferson was the key; he was August's accomplice. August had killed Rick and Niles, his two previous partners, back in Boston. If she could find Jefferson and convince him that August was planning on double crossing him, they might stand a chance in bringing August Booth to justice.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone galloping down the street. Regina looked up for a moment to see Jack swing herself off of her horse with ease. She smiled cockily at Regina, who just stared back.

"Oh, hi Jack," Phillip greeted. "She's one of my deputies. She's been working undercover to catch August for a while now," he said to Regina. "Thanks to you, she has a lead now."

Jack looked at Regina, a flash of recognition falling over her features. She adjusted her hat as Regina looked. She did look a lot like Miss Swan; she had the same swagger and confidence that she did. Her hair was tied back in a braid, and she had two guns hanging from her hips.

Regina nodded. "Nice to see you."

Jack just scowled. "Yeah, I guess. Thanks for paying me for the horse your friend stole."

Regina bit her lip, knowing it was futile to keep protesting that Miss Swan was most certainly not her friend. It's not like anyone would believe her. She was starting to not believe it herself.

"You're welcome. I know Miss Swan tends to act before thinking, and I apologize."

Phillip looked between the two of them, then excused himself, walking back into the crowded Sheriff's office.

Jack looked at Regina as she tied her horse up. "You're trying to catch August?" She sauntered up, standing by her.

Regina nodded.

"All I have to say is: good luck."

"Jefferson is one of his accomplices. He owns a hat shop on Miner's street. Do you know it?"

Jack shook her head. "I don't. But if you show me, I could probably meet him and get him to trust me. Like Phillip said, I've been working undercover."

Regina studied her. "I could use your help, thank you."

"Hey, it'd be my pleasure to see that scumbag hang."

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The city streets were dirty, as usual, and Regina made sure to walk carefully around the horses. She didn't want to ruin her shoes. Jack walked behind her, leading her horse with a long rope. Across the street was the millinery shop, and Regina waved to it. Jack's eyes snapped over to it, observing. She hoped that they were being discreet enough. After staying there for a few minutes, Jack climbed onto her saddle, then reached her hand down. Regina grasped it and pulled herself onto the back of the horse. It wasn't the most comfortable way to ride, but Regina didn't complain.

They rode back to the Sheriff's office, and Regina was glad to see that Destiny had had some time to rest. Regina turned to Jack.

"Be careful. If Jefferson knows that you and I know each other, he won't trust you," Regina said.

Jack just smirked, reminding Regina of a certain blond ex-bounty hunter. "Relax. I know what I'm doing."

Regina couldn't help but wonder if everything that she and Miss Swan did had been an exercise in futility. Now, Emma was in the hospital, and she wasn't even sure if she'd survive. Regina had to do this without her, and she was relying on the off chance that Jefferson might distrust August enough to betray him. She felt like she was gambling, rolling the dice over and over, and never winning anything.

But she kept throwing the damn dice, just because of the thrill it gave her.

That was why she had accompanied Miss Swan to New York, after all. She had a craving for adventure and danger, however much she tried to deny that fact.

Jack galloped off, and Regina climbed on her horse as well, riding back to the hotel. She'd see Miss Swan tomorrow, and tell her of their new plan.


End file.
